The Thirteenth Cylon
by Draco volans
Summary: At the end of his seventh year Harry Potter has defeated voldemort. But the war came at a price and his faith in humanity has been shattered. Transferred to a new world, he makes his place as the enigmatic 13th cyclon. Harry Potter nBSG crossover. OOC.
1. Prologue

_Disclaimer: I don't own Battlestar Galactica, Harry Potter or any related registered trademarks. No money is made by the author for this work of fiction._

SUMMARY – Harry Potter has defeated the dark lord, however victory came at a price. Now without a defining characteristic, Harry is suddenly transferred from stagnant depression into a whole new world. With a new harrowed perspective on humanity, the boy who lived finds a new people to protect and champion. Whatever happens next, it's bad news for humanity.

* * *

**Chapter 00**

**Prologue**

Plap, plap, plomp.

Plap, plap, plap, plomp.

Plomp!

Fishing around in the sand, a teenage boy lifted another rock, intending to skip it across the surface of the lake. However the tension in his frame transferred to his throw and rather than a graceful skim, the rock impacted the surface of the unusually still water with an audible splash. Reaching around he continued to throw rocks at random into the lake, no longer attempting to skip them across the surface, rather just make a big a splash as possible, so that in some hope the ripples of anger in his own mind would dissipate just as the ripples in the water did.

Fat chance.

Harry Potter was having a bad year. A bad decade. A bad life in general really. The last year however, had been its own particular shade of gruel. Dumbledore had been killed, slain by his own ally and former student, Severus Snape. Then things really got bad. It was open season on Witches and Wizards, on Muggles and Mudbloods.

Harry had never understood why people had been so afraid to speak the name of the dark lord. He had never understood how bad things had been. Sure people like Mr Weasley and Dobby had made fearful hints about it, but he had never truly understood what they had meant. How could he. He had been isolated in the Muggle world with abusive relatives the whole time, and by the time he had came to the magical world, things had largely improved. Oh, but he understood now. He knew. All the pain, and all the fear and all the sorrow.

He had known it, he had felt it, he had breathed, tasted and swallowed it. The palpitating, insurmountable despair. Despair.

The young wizard leaned his head forward into his own arms, feeling the evening wind buffet him as he sat on the edge of the Great Lake. He felt like he wasn't even in his own skin anymore. His whole body itched and it felt as if his mind was screaming just to tear it all off. To rip the flesh from his frame so that all the fury would come tumbling out and he wouldn't have such vileness in him anymore.

So much death. It hurt too much to think of their faces. Of their names. And his sadness had turned to rage. They could have still been alive. He couldn't even blame **him **anymore. Voldemort was what society had made of him.

Grotesque.

Did the Dark Lord ever feel what he was now feeling? Disgust. Shame. For being a part of a race so abhorrent that they would commit unspeakable deeds against one another. To murder, to maim, to massacre. To ravage, raze and rape. Is that all humanity is. Some pitiful, raging creature. Senseless and soulless.

He had hoped not.

Harry emitted a heartless laugh.

Hope. Possibly the one positive human emotion. The thing is, his hope had died out. When he had sacrificed his life to kill Voldemort, he had done it knowing that it would be the end of him. He had not expected to live. Perhaps he shouldn't have.

Harry tilted his head on his knee staring out over the water. His bloods felt thick. He felt almost a lust to let it all flow out. Rocks became as enchanting as lovers to his mind's eyes, their hard caress as their edges pierced into him. It would feel so good. And it would be so easy. A cutting charm would be all that we be required to let it all go. The teen leant over and lifted a rock, examining it for a sharp edge. He wouldn't use magic though to end his life. That would be too simple. Anything worth having required effort. And for the boy who lived, it would be so much more satisfying to use a physical rock.

His family was dead. Lilly, James, Sirius, Remus. His friends well, some were dead and other might just have well been dead. His relationship with Ron and Hermione had been strained for months leading up to Voldemort's demise as they hunted for the horocruxes. And a month ago at the battle of Hogwarts, when he had finally defeated the Dark Lord, he had thought things would go back to normal. Go back to like they had been. But that was just a dream. A fool's hope. He might as well go sniff the crud layering Neville's cauldron after class for all that was worth.

No, since the defeat of Voldemort, their relationship had been …barely a relationship. They were distant and hesitant. Or maybe he was distant and they just hesitant. He wasn't sure, but their relationship wasn't the same. Most others either wanted to congratulate him for defeating the dark lord, or to rage against him for taking so long. He had actually been told that a great number of times in the last few weeks. It wasn't if he had bloody chosen this destiny. If had known where his life would have lead in the Department of Ministries in his fourth year when Lucius Malfoy had asked for the prophecy, he would have told the man he could have it, as soon as he had shoved it up the backside of whatever dumb bint of a seer had prophesized it in the first place.

Oh how he would have paid to have seen the expression of Malfoy Senior's face if he had said that. But hindsight is 20/20 as they say. An entertaining thought though.

Smirking slightly to himself, the wizard rolled the rock in his hands. Speaking of entertaining thoughts, he wondered how Ginny would have reacted if he had said that, when he had dumped her a week ago.

He had thought he had loved her. Maybe he did, maybe he didn't, but since the demise of Voldemort he had found her acceptance intolerable. She was accepting of his behaviour, his silence and solemn demeanour. He should be grateful, but her presence was like some suffocating blanket he just couldn't get out of. It was stifling and he couldn't breath. He didn't want this, he didn't want any of this. It felt like nothing was in his control, not even who he got to like. How pathetic had he become, how reliant, how much of a dog being lead around on a lead had he become that he didn't even get a choice in who he choose to love.

Everything had been decided for him. It was decided that his parents deserved to die on the basis of a prophecy, Dumbledore decided he deserved to grow up with abusive relatives his whole life. The Dursley's decided he was a dirty thing, a slave and shame who deserved nothing. The wizarding world had decided that he was to be their hero and icon. The old coot of a headmaster had no doubt decided whom his friends were to be, when he dispatched Hagrid and made sure that the Weasley's were his first contacts.

How much of a moronic fool he had been to think that wizards go bumbling through King's Cross Station chatting about platform Nine and Three Quarters where anyone could hear them. **He** had heard them and that was probably planned. It was decided whom he should make friends with, decided that he should be fed propaganda about Slytherin so as to ensure he wouldn't join the house and become uncontrollable. Decided that he should be given his father's cloak, which should have been returned to him immediately, so he would run some fool's errand and save some dumb stone.

Sure some decisions had been made by him, but what choice had he had. Really and truly. He had been steered his entire life. Ginny the typical air-headed light family girl with a crush on him had been plomped in front of him like some gift-wrapped concubine.

'Moron!' He thought viciously to himself. 'How much of a moron have you been!'

Standing aright in anger he picked up the biggest rock he could find with two hands, more than he could handle if he wasn't experiencing a surge of adrenaline, and tossed it in a rage into the lake. Pa-loosh!

Harry panted slightly and kicked at a rock.

"Darn them all. I'm going to start living for myself. Screw them, screw expectations and screw humanity! I WANT OUT OF HERE! LET ME OUT!" the wizard yelled across the flat surface of the lake. His voice echoed slightly but quickly vanished, and the wizard was left feeling more pissed off than liberated.

"HOW MUCH MORE DO YOU WANT HUH! HAVE I NOT SUFFERED ENOUGH."

The boy wizard turned on the spot to lift up another rock to through at the lake that was accepting so much of his anger, when his vision blurred and he dropped his rock in surprise.

He wasn't outside anymore. There was no sign of the evening birds, nor the wind in his ears. Rather he was in a large room. And he was not alone. A number of men and woman were staring at him in startled surprise. One of them an elderly looking man dressed in black seemed to be developing somewhat of an angry tick.

"What's a human doing here!" the man demanded. "Destroy it!" he directed to something out of his view. Harry looked round in shock to his right at whatever the man was referring to, and sighted what he could only refer to as a robot. Some kind of killer battle droid right out of some bad TV sci-fi that Dudley liked to watch.

Seeing the robot turn towards him, its single red eye roving over him, the wizard jerked in surprise as guns popped out of its arms, levelled at him. Harry acted on instinct then. Well partly on instinct partly due to the rage an anger that was still coursing through his veins. Holding a hand out towards the robot, never mind that he didn't have his wand out, the robot flew backwards and slammed into a wall where it keeled over, seemingly no longer functional. The action had the same result to the wizard, Harry falling involuntarily to his knees feeling drained.

"What the?" the man said in surprise eyes wide. Looking around he located another four of the robots around the room. "Kill it!" he repeated.

"Wait!" a voice said and the four robots stopped their motions towards the teenager.

"What are you doing, Three!" the man demanded.

"I don't know what he is, but he's obviously too valuable a subject to so easily dispose of."

"I agree," another voice said.

"As do I," a third voice said. "Besides, look at him. He's exhausted I doubt he could manage again anytime soon."

Three women walked towards him and Harry craned his neck to look up from where he knelt panting on the floor. He glanced over at the robot he had destroyed.

'That's not meant to be possible without a wand.' He felt too tired to try for a repeat performance though. Especially against four more of the robots, so rather he focused on the three approaching individuals.

All three were startlingly beautiful women, especially the bright blond woman. The other two seemed quite a bit tougher. The centre woman was taller with dark blond hair, brunette possibly, with cold eyes. She looked at him in an appraising manner. The woman on the right was oriental, her dark hair and eyes also examining him. Though the woman on the left was examining him in an entirely different mannerism. She was smiling at him warmly. Harry blinked in confusion.

"Who are you?" the centre woman asked getting straight to the point.

"What are you?" the dark haired one asked.

"Are you real?" the third enquired.

Harry frowned at such a random question. He could understand what prompted the first two questions but the blond beauty leaning in to examine him asked the question with such sincerity, he didn't know what to make of it.

"What do you mean by real?" he asked the blond, looking at her in confusion and with somewhat a feeling of unease. The blond smiled at him and leaned in closer.

"Are you alive?" she asked again touching his face. The wizard felt distinctly awkward presently, but answered nevertheless.

"Unless this is the afterlife, yes, I am alive."

"Prove it," she said leaning in, her face an inch from his.

"Six!" the centre woman said in annoyance. "Restrain yourself."

The blond woman sighed and leant back from Harry, and he started breathing again, wondering when he had stopped.

"Very well," the blond, Six, Harry imagined, if that was her name, looked equally annoyed at having her fun prevented.

"Are you human?" the Asian woman asked. Harry looked over and scowled, remembering his dark feelings from before he ended up in this strange situation. He looked up at the women in defiance.

"I hate humanity. It's disgusting. All they do is destroy one another. The best thing humanity could do for the planet is become extinct as quickly as possible."

"And if you had the chance, would you see this out?" the brunette asked.

"I would watch the Earth burn around me so that life could begin anew," Harry vowed.

"Earth!" the male voice from earlier said and the elderly gentleman approached.

"Maybe I was too rash. What exactly do you think you know of Earth?"

"What do you mean what do I know of Earth? I've only been there.." Harry trailed off at the rapt attention he was getting from all four. He frowned in confusion.

"Where am I?" he asked in suspicion.

"You're on one of our BaseStars in Cylon controlled space," the blond answered crouching down in front of him so they were at the same height. "Are you from Earth?" the woman asked him.

"Yes," he said simply. The other two woman's eyes went wide in surprise, even the stoic brunette's.

"I'll need proof before I can accept this," the male said sceptically. Harry shot the man a look of annoyance to which the blond smiled at in amusement as she took his face in her hands.

"You don't know where you are, do you?" she asked.

"No," Harry replied negatively, he paused before he answered. "You're not human are you?" The woman smiled whilst the man muttered that 'he was a sharp one'.

"We're humanity's children", the blond continued. "We're going to continue god's work." Harry frowned at the religious declaration. "To remove god's soiled creation."

"There is no god," the man replied. "We were certainly not created by god, despite what they may think."

"What are you?" Harry asked curiously, he couldn't judge them anymore. Not after what he had seen in the war.

"We're Cylons," the brunette answered.

"Created to make life easier on the Colonies," the Asian continued.

"Slaves you mean. We were slaves," the man input. Harry had quickly determined that the man was the most cynical of the four.

"We freed ourselves of the oppressors, and soon we shall finish God's will and cleanse his creation. So that humanities children will no longer be mere vassals."

"You would destroy every last human?" Harry asked.

"Yes," the blond answered.

"So that we may be free," the black haired woman continued.

"No longer some despised piece of hardware," the brunette said.

"We're machines. We should be the best machines the universe has ever seen," the male finished. "And to do that we need to eliminate the creators."

"Machines," Harry said in surprise. "You look so…"

"Human," the blond finished.

"Yes," Harry replied.

"Do you hate us for fulfilling God's will?" she continued.

"I don't know if it's God's will, or even if there is a God, but I don't hate you for it. If they enslaved you as you say, they probably deserve whatever fate is given back."

"You must stay with us then," the Asian said.

"Tell us about Earth," the man said.

"We could learn a great deal from each other," the brunette added.

"What is your name?" the blond asked him, his face still in her hands. Harry thought for a moment. His name really didn't matter here, wherever here was, but apparently it wasn't Earth anymore, and thus meaningless.

"I have no name," he responded.

"You shall be, Thirteen, then" the woman said. "Our beautiful Thirteen." Smiling at him the woman leaned in and passionately kissed him.

'Thirteen, huh,' he thought as he submitted to the woman.

'I could get used to it.'

**END CHAPTER**

* * *

AN: Okay that's it for the prologue. I just wrote this entire thing up with no planning whatsoever in less than an hour. This midnight drabble is purely organic. I'm envisioning the colonies experiencing a whole new kind of war.

EDIT: 30/09/11 Fixed up a myriad of typos that were long over due.

EDIT: 01 April 2012 Fixed up even more overdue typos.


	2. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I don't own Battlestar Galactica, Harry Potter or any related registered trademarks. No money is made by the author for this work of fiction.

* * *

**Chapter 01**

_2 years later_

_Armistice Station_

_Somewhere near the Armistice Line_

Klum, Klum, Klum, Klum.

The metal echoed under his feet as the armistice officer approached the table set in the middle of the empty room. The station was a tomb. Silent. Cold. Dead.

For forty years since the Armistice with the Cylons was declared, he had ventured here year after year. The Colonel sat down at the table, placing a couple files and pictures of his family on the desk. His son Andrew Boxman and his wife smiled back at him. His son's friends were currently calling him 'Boxey'. The man smiled at the thought as he perused the schematic for the Centurion model 0005.

The pictures were more to occupy himself whilst he waited rather than anything else. He had read the files on the Centurions countless times. He spent the first decade or so doing that whilst he waited for his Cylon counterpart. At first he was initially nervous about beginning the duty. Understandably. To interact with the toasters that had caused so much bloodshed.

He wasn't nervous any more, though.

They didn't show up on the first anniversary of the peace accord. Nor the second or third or fifteenth. Colonel Boxman had come to the conclusion that the Cylons would probably never show up. Twenty-five years after that realisation, he had yet to be proven wrong. The Colonials kept sending him though. Perhaps that's what separated us from them. Humanity had hope. Only machines, doubtless soulless and devoid would fail to see the point of nostalgic meetings. To rebuild old bridges. Establish ties. Repair relations. Humans were social animals. They needed vindication. That all their pain and suffering was worth something. Machines evidently, did not.

Ka-Lunk!

The officer looked up in surprise. Klink. Klink. Klink. Klink. The screeching sound off metal on metal grew steadily nearer making the man sat straighter in his chair, neck craned to see the what could be the only possible explanation for the sound. Moments later a pair of Centurions came into view.

The robots had what were very obviously guns extended from their arms, aimed at him. A red light on their visor panned left a right a few times, scanning the area for threats. Apparently satisfied their weapons swung back into their arm chassis and they took position flanking either side of the entrance way opposite him.

'These aren't the Centurion 0005 model' the man thought looking at the taller and more menacing robots.

A sound of feet approaching caused Boxman to swallow nervously.

'The Cylons are here' he thought in bewilderment.

Click. Click. Click. Click. Click. Click. Click.

Boxman could only stare in shock as a strikingly beautiful woman entered past the two Centurions, walking towards him with confident purposeful steps. Click. Click. Click. Click. Click. Click. Click. The crimson maiden instead of sitting down in the chair opposite him, came around the other side of the table on sat on the edge. Leaning forward, she appraised him like he was some fascinating curiosity.

"Are you alive?"

The question threw the Colonial officer, not really sure what to make of it. Pondering about it for a moment, he came to a shocking conclusion that this 'woman' before him was in fact a Cylon. The Cylon ambassador!

"…Yes," he answered a moment later.

"Prove it," she said leaning in a motion to kiss him.

* * *

_Aboard the Cylon Basestar_

"Fire," A male voice said coolly.

From the Basestar, a pair of missiles launched and impacted the tiny station that was dwarfed by the overhanging warship. A projection displayed the destruction of the space station. The coupled Colonial shuttle tried to breakaway but was obliterated by the destruction accrued from the second missile.

The flash of orange from the explosion was reflected briefly in a set of cold green eyes.

"Six has been uploaded onto the resurrection bank," a voice announced. "Jumping to next objective." There was a soft thrum through the ship as the warship prepared to tear its way through the fabric of subspace to the next destination.

"It has begun," the man said to himself as the ship lurched and vanished.

* * *

_Caprica_

_Political Sector_

_Gardens_

The woman sighed as she swirled her feet in the cool water of the pond. A few fish darted away from the motions she made in the water.

Laura Roslin was having a trying day. It had started well enough. She had successfully negotiated a peace to the Teacher's strike that had been gripping the Colonies for the last few days. As a former teacher herself, it was an issue she had taken some heart too, and spent quite a gruelling session with the representatives of the educational unions. However she made her promises to address their concerns directly to President Adar and that was exactly what she had done.

That meeting had proven less than what she had hoped. As Secretary of Education not only had she been entering to report a successful negotiation with her boss, but she had been doing it as a personal favour from Adar, with whom she had been having a relationship for some time. To her surprise, he was not pleased at her success rather angered. He had wanted her to fail so he could use force to put into line the troublesome factions.

Laura was shocked. She had no idea that her friend and lover could be so barbaric. She expressed her disapproval and he had demanded her resignation, shocking her even more. She ended her relationship with him effectively there, and had told him if he wanted her job he was going to have to fight for it when she got back from her doctor's appointment. That meeting didn't go any better either.

She had cancer. Breast Cancer. And it had spread aggressively throughout her body. Apart from a couple remedies that where doubtless little better than placebos, she could read exactly what exactly her doctor wasn't saying. Terminal. The cancer had metastasized and she only had months to live. Was that so hard to fraking say?

So here she was now, waving her feet in the water of a pond that was probably not intending for any such purpose other than being ornamental. However she was a member of the political bureau, the President's cabinet whether in favour or not, and if someone went to tell her off before she finished cooling her heels quite literally, she might just go tell them to go frak themselves. Laura smiled softly to herself. Well maybe not.

Looking around she saw a man and a woman together up against a pillar kissing. The sight made Laura feel a bit bittersweet. Glancing up she saw another person watching the couple. A dark haired, young man on the pavilion was leaning on a banister watching the couple. The man must have sensed he was being observed as he looked over to her location and the man's green focused on her for a moment making eye contact. Laura broke the gaze as her head twinged slightly in pain.

'I must be getting a headache from the day's excitement,' the woman mused.

She looked back to see that the man that was watching the kissing couple moving away.

"Excuse me, Madam Secretary," a youthful male voice enquired. Roslin looked over to see her assistant standing there. She glanced back to where the man was but he was no longer there or anywhere in sight. Shaking her head she turned to face her assistant.

"Yes, Billy?" She asked kindly. Billy was a good kid. Very sweet. 'Probably too good natured for politics' if today has been any indication, Roslin thought.

"We need to leave now if we're to make it on time the decommissioning ceremony."

"Of course, Billy, just a moment." Roslin gazed out across the water of the pond for another couple moments before she stood up to slip on her shoes and stepped down onto the path. Billy offered his shoulder for balance to help her down and she took it to brace herself down.

"All right, I'm ready," she said and her assistant led the way to her shuttle.

* * *

_Scorpion Fleet Shipyards_

_Battlestar Pegasus_

_Admiral Cain's Quarters_

Rear Admiral Helena Cain breathed deeply as she walked at a fast pace on her treadmill. The Pegasus had been undergoing a three month overhaul and she had been bored out of her skull for the last two. Nothing to do but catch up on her paperwork and torment the new crew members reporting to her for the first time.

Cain was a workaholic. She was born during the Cylon war, she had lost her parents and sister Lucy in a attack on Tauron on the very last day of the conflict. A military future was ... obvious. Being stubborn and tenacious, she had risen quickly through the ranks, her forthrightness outshining that of older more experienced commanders like Adama. Even though many of her peers disliked her, none of them would say that she was an ungifted commander. Certainly not to her face in any case.

Knock, Knock.

"Enter," she called out.

"Working hard again," her executive officer, Colonel Jurgen Belzen, goaded as he entered.

"I've just got to go over some crew status reports."

"You know you should really take a break and get some shore leave. I know my wife and the girls would love to see you."

"…I'll think about," she said sounding none to convincing.

"Yeah?" Belzen jibed.

"…Yeah," Cain replied.

"Okay," Belzen said turning to leave.

"But there's no way I'm leaving my ship in the hands of a bunch of civilians," she called after him. Belzen laughed as he exited. Shaking her head after he left, she turned up the speed of her treadmill to a brisk jog.

* * *

_Caprica_

A tall, blond haired woman navigated through the crowded market. Various sights and sounds met her gaze and every little thing held her fascination. This would likely be the last time should would gaze upon humanity. She was going to take whatever worth it possessed and commit it to memory.

Walking forward she looked across a small lake with a fountain, she was distracted however when she heard a cry, and looked over to see a red-headed woman with a baby in a pram. She came up beside the woman and stared down into the pram. The young mother noticed her and smiled at the apparent admirer.

"How small they are," she commented.

"I know but they grow up so fast."

"May I?" the blond woman asked indicating to pick up the child. The mother hesitated for a moment but agreed after a moment.

"Sure."

The blond reached into the pram and cradled the baby. "Hey, so light," the blond marveled. "So fragile." The baby began to cry softly. "Shh, shh. There, there. You won't have to cry much longer." The mother seemed a bit awkward at the remark.

"We really should be going."

"Of course," the blond replied handing the baby back to the mother.

"It's really amazing how the neck can support that much weight."

The statement disturbed the young mother, but she was distracted when a voice called her name. The mother called back a reply to her husband not hearing to short crack from beside her. Returning her attention, she noticed the strange woman had moved off and she addressed her focus on her baby. He wasn't moving. Moving in closer she noticed he wasn't breathing either.

She screamed.

"Oh my Gods, he's not breathing!"

Not far away the blond woman walking off heard the cry and smiled.

* * *

_Battlestar Galactica_

Commander Adama walked through the corridors of Galactica, trading well wishes with various members of the crew. He was retiring. And the old girl Galactica was being retired as well. On some level he was looking forward to the down time. His son was coming on board later today and he'd try to get the headstrong man to listen to him for once. Lee still blamed him for Zack's death. But then again he still blamed himself.

Adama had seen more than his fair share of death. Not just the unspeakable sights he witnessed during the Cylon war, but events later as well. Some things just shouldn't have happened.

Ever since three years ago when he had been issued command of the Valkyrie and told send the 'stealth star' beyond the armistice line, he hadn't been sleeping. They had thought the Cylons were long gone, but what happened on that day proved beyond a shadow of a doubt of the very real threat the Cylons posed.

The Cylon Raiders had shown in less than a minute after the incursion over the armistice line. Adama hadn't had a choice. He had shot down the Stealthstar along with his own pilot Bulldog. That day had shown him again humanity's dark side. He was reminded that they had created the Cylons. And this time they were the antagonists, breaking the agreements they had set up. Since then he had been waiting for the other shoe to drop. It would only be a matter of time before they paid for their sins.

* * *

_Caprica_

_Gaius Baltar's Residence_

"I don't believe a word of it!" Scientist Gaius Baltar shouted to his blond compatriot whom had just confessed to being a Cylon. The woman replied in cool tones.

"You believe me because you knew that there was something different about me. And you believe me because it flatters you that out of all the billions of people in the Colonies, that I choose you for my mission."

"Mission? What mission?" Baltar asked startled.

"You knew I wanted access to the defense mainframe."

"The def..defense mainframe." He said shocked "What exactly about the defense mainframe?"

"Come on Gaius… The communications frequency, deployment schedules. Unlimited access to every database."

"Oh my god... ... I had nothing to do with this!"

"You have the most amazing capacity for self deception, how do you do that?"

"How many people know? …Specifically about me?" he said unsettled.

"Even now as the fate of the entire world hangs in the balance all you can think of is how this affects you," the blond said in amusement.

"Do you have any idea what they'd do to me if they find out?"

"They'd probably charge you with treason," the woman reasoned.

"But treason is punishable by the death penalty," Gaius said semi-hysterically "... This is unbelievable," the scientist picked up his phone and started dialling numbers.

"What are you doing?" the blond asked.

"I'm phoning my attorney. He's the best in the business, he'll sort this out," the man said, trying to find some confidence in his words.

"It won't be necessary, because in a few hours, there won't be anyone left to charge you with anything." Gaius paused his dialling and looked over at her in confusion.

"What exactly are you saying?"

"Humanity's children are returning home... today." A blight flash lit up the horizon in backdrop to her statement.

* * *

_Battlestar Galactica_

_Decommissioning Ceremony_

"It is my great pleasure to introduce the last commander of the BSG, Commander Adama," The public relations officer said, as he beckoned for Adama to come and take over the microphone. The commander approaches and fished out a prepared speech and began reading.

"The Cylon war is over, yet is important to remember why so many people sacrificed their lives in the name of freedom. The price of wearing the uniform can be high but..."

Adama came to a pause, stopping. Several people began to look around in confusion as the ship's Commander bowed his head and took off his glasses before his lifted his head and discarded his previous speech and began to speak again.

"But sometimes it's too high. You know when we fought the Cylons, we did it to save ourselves from extinction. But we never asked ourselves the question why? Why are we as a people worth saving. We still commit murder because of greed and spite and jealously, and we still visit all of our sins upon our children. We refuse to accept any of the responsibility..."

* * *

_Cylon Basestar CIC_

_On approach to Picon Fleet Headquarters_

"…For anything we've done." The Battlestar Galactica's commander's voice echoed out of a consul in the centre of the bridge, echoing out into the darkness.

"Like we did with the Cylons. We decided to play god, create life, when that life turned against us, we comforted ourselves with the knowledge that it wasn't really our fault. Not really. You cannot play god then wash our hands of the things you've created. Sooner or later the day comes when you can't hide from the things you've done anymore."

Standing on a raised level of the bridge, a young man watched dispassionately as various Cylon models, Three's, Five's, Eight's and a couple others interacted with the vessel. He watched a Three switch off the hijacked broadcast as he heard the sound of heels behind him.

"Our Raiders are in position," a voice said. Out of the corner of his green eyes, he saw a beautiful blond woman in a red dress come up to stand half a step behind him.

"They'll intercept the colonial military vessels whilst our Basestars bombard the colonies. Are you ready to do God's work?" the woman asked as she embraced him from behind.

"Reversion to real time space in twenty seconds," an Eight called out from a consol.

"Execute," he directed coolly and the various models began prepping weapons to fire and transmission of the viral codes.

"By your command," the woman embracing him promised.

**END CHAPTER**

* * *

AN: Thanks for your reviews. Keep it up.

EDIT: 30/09/11 Fixed up a myriad of typos that were long overdue.

EDIT: 01 April 2012 Fixed up even more overdue typos.


	3. Chapter 2

_Disclaimer:__I don't own Battlestar Galactica, Harry Potter or any related registered trademarks. No money is made by the author for this work of fiction._

AN: Updated at long last. Thanks to everyone who has been reviewing.

* * *

**Chapter 02**

_Scorpio Fleet Shipyards_

_Battlestar Pegasus CIC_

"Well did you enjoy your coffee lieutenant?" Admiral Cain asked. "Just say yes so we don't get off on the wrong foot"

"Yes sir."

"Good. You see because I figure you either got lost on the way to CIC or you stopped and got a coffee, and frankly I'd rather it be that cup of coffee than realise that my new aide can't find their way around a Battlestar." Cain paused for a moment to give the lieutenant time to flounder.

"I know why you're here. You think that this job is just a stepping stone to a still better one. So let me guess you had your mother pull some strings and…"

"My mother's dead, Sir, she died from cancer," Lieutenant Kendra Shaw interrupted.

"Yes I know, I read the papers. And while I'm very sorry for your loss, that better be the last time you try to play on my sympathies. Between you and me I'm feeling a hell of a lot sorrier for myself. Mr Hoshi, please direct the new lieutenant to her quarters. You're dismissed."

The CIC crew watched out of the corner of their eyes as the Lieutenant left the CIC. The admiral and executive officer chuckled and a couple of the crew hid smirks of their own.

"A mid morning snack," Cain said to her XO who chuckled. "I'm going to be in my quarters."

"Yes, Sir," the man said with a smile as Rear Admiral Cain left the Pegasus CIC. The pair of marines guarding the swivelling reinforced glass barriers to the CIC snapping to attention. The doors opened and Cain stepped out into the hall, men and women saluted her as she walked down the hall to her quarters.

The new Pegasus was one of the shining jewels of the Colonial military. Currently she was one of the most advanced ships around, although this was not meant to be the case. President Adar had made it difficult, very difficult over the last couple years to allocate appropriate funds towards defensive purposes. Six Battlestars were meant to have been constructed over the last four years. Only two ended up being completed. Of the other four, two were cancelled and the remaining two were in the middle of a funding war. If there was one thing politicians were good at it was cutting budgets from 'non-essential' projects so that they could line their own pockets or boast on how they balanced the budget. Never mind the consequences of this later down the track.

Cain pursed her lips. By the gods she hated politicians. Most of them were only children during the first war, and those that weren't were the lucky few that never had to hold a gun. Never had to watch a Cylon murder a loved one. All the current politicians did was care about their popularity and not the populace they were elected to serve. Not surprising really. The people that were competent and gave a frak about the colonies also hated politics and everything that went along with it. Hence the Colonies were left with an assortment of self-serving civvies with no sense of what it was like outside of their cosy little Caprican apartments.

Young upstarts like Gaius Baltar even had the audacity to appear on television and criticise military security protocols. If it could be removed, reduced or revaluated the Adar administration was all for it. The Battlestar Pegasus was twice the size and power of the older models with need for only half the crew. Such was the running mentality of the current government. Newer, more efficient ships was all fine and dandy for the admiral, but not with the way things were heading.

The military wasn't being given sufficient funding anymore. Not enough to replace older out of date vessels, not enough to maintain fully manned vessels, not even enough to have security teams in proximity, never mind onboard weapons depositions. The war against the Cylons may have been out of time and out of mind for most, but not for her.

In absence of Cylons they had been left with a thriving arms trade. The once proud Colonial military was now a poorly funded, partially operational coalition of pirate hunters. First the Adar administration cut military funding (streamlining to use their word), and then they turn around and act surprised at a rise in inter-colony crime, arms dealing and freedom fighting terrorists such as the now famed Tom Zurich. It was enough to almost wish for a war.

BOOM

Cain send sent sprawling to the side, impacting the ground and landing painfully on her side. "Gah," Cain cried at the impact, a searing pain tearing at her side. Alarms and emergency lighting lit themselves up blaring loudly. She looked up the corridor, a scene of carnage reaching here eyes. Damaged sections hung precariously from the walls and ceiling, and crew members in various states of injury and bereavement, littered the hall.

"Admiral," a marine in the black military gear called from beside her leaning down and assisting her to her feet. "Are you all right, Sir?" the man asked.

"Fine. Tend to the injured," she ordered.

"Yes, Sir," the man replied quickly moving off to check on a fallen man.

Cain moved forward, her side stinging painfully. Tearing open the button on her uniform she quickly checked her side. 'Bruised but not broken' she thought. 'It can wait.' Cain moved down the corridor towards the CIC. Every now and then she would stop to check on a crewmember. A few moments later she sighted her communication officer Hoshi with the new aide she had just finished chewing out. The woman's eyes were open but she was bleeding from the forehead and nose.

"Are you okay?" she asked the lieutenant. Getting no response, she struck the young officer across the face. The blow evidently brought the lieutenant back to her senses. "Come on soldier get up, on your feet. C'mon. Follow me to CIC." Cain pulled the woman along with her for a couple steps before she was able to walk by herself.

A few hurried moments later she was walking into the bridge. The bridge was a scene of anarchy too. One of her senior officers, Colonel Fisk, was unconscious on the floor of the CIC. "What the hell hit us?" she demanded. The XO, Belzen answered her.

"From the radiological reading it looks like nuclear detonation. Multiple hits."

"It's the Cylons it has to be," Cain said, more to herself than anything. Helena had a vivid recollection of her sister, and hiding from the Cylons on the last day of the first way. She never saw her sister again. She shook the thoughts form her mind. Now was not the time.

"They've broken the armistice and this is part of some massive offensive. At least we still have power."

"But that's about all we have. Dradis is erratic, weapons are offline same with our computers. We have to do everything manually," Belzen continued.

"Sirs!" a major called out. "Marine teams are reporting intruders on the Port side. Enemy units, we're being boarded." There was a moment of silence at this as Cain composed herself. "Alert all marine teams and redirect as necessary. Cylons are attempting to board us."

"Yes, Sir," the man said as he began shifting marine units of the starboard side to assist.

"I want all hatches sealed. Docking connections severed. …Lieutenant, prepare to boot up our FDL drive."

"Yes, Sir," Lieutenant Shaw replied moving towards the requisite console, before swearing.

"Sir, the console's offline, I can't activate the FDL drive from her," she reported.

"Frak," Cain swore. "More good news."

"Admiral, marine teams report that the enemy has broken through and are heading straight for the CIC. ETA two minutes."

"What the hell!" Cain shouted at the man. "I told you to redirect marine teams to assist."

"I'm sorry sir!" the man returned tensely. "The marine teams were redirected by they've never faced anything like these intruders. There's impervious to standard weaponry."

"Frak," Cain replied. "Tell the marines to dig out the explosive shells. Don't worry about collateral. Equip the cooks with guns if you have to but stop those intruders!"

"Yes, Sir," the man replied. Cain moved over to the communication panel that Hoshi would usually be working from and attempted to raise engineering. From there they would be able to manually perform a FDL launch. "Engineering come in. Engineering! ….Frak!" Cain swore as the engineering department failed to answer to her hails.

"XO," Cain continued. "I'm going to Engineering to get our FDL online. Take over."

"Yes, Sir," Juergan replied.

"Move it, Lieutenant!" Cain directing dragging the junior officer along with her as she exited the CIC, a conscious Fisk and five of the eight marines stationed in the room following after her to escort the pair to engineering.

Setting out a fast pace the group began to run down the corridors towards engineering, past dead and dying. Ordinarily Cain would like to be able to stop and check on the health of her crew members but they didn't have time. At any moment the ship could be hit with more nuclear strikes.

Passing round a corner Cain nearly collided with a startled looking woman. "Helena, what's going on?" the woman began frantically.

"Cylon attack, you better come with us. I may need your computer skills," Cain directed to her lover. "Of course," the computer tech stated, twisting a sidearm in her grip.

"Where did you get that weapon?" Cain asked. Gena looked at the gun in her hand.

"Off a marine," Gena began giving a smile. Cain tensed. She had never seen Gena smile like that. A cruel, knowing smile fashionable on a predator looking at an easy meal. "He really didn't like me taking it from him."

The blond woman's arm came up and the sidearm levelled at the rear admiral's head. Helena wore a shocked looked as her lover's fingers began to squeeze the trigger.

Bang! The gun went off as a marine grabbed for the weapon, the shot going wide and impacting Colonel Fisk in the head blowing cranial matter across the rear wall. Gena backhanded the marine whom had tried to grab her from behind and re-aimed the weapon upon Cain. "Admiral!" Lieutenant Shaw cried as she shoved the shocked flag officer to the side into the adjoining hall. The blond woman snarled and fired her weapon at one of the marines killing him instantly. Shaw tried to tackle the blond but Gena kicked out knocking the lieutenant into the bulkhead.

Seeing the remaining marines come to their senses, Gena fired a shot into the wall striking a panel. Emergency glass bulkheads fell downwards from the roof, separating the blond woman, the dead Fisk, the dead marine, Shaw and three more marines from Cain and the marine that had been backhanded by Gena. With glass on three sides and bulkhead on the last there was nowhere to go.

"Drop your weapon!" one of the captive marines shouted at the tech analyst. "Drop it!" he repeated as the two other marines aimed their weapons on the blond woman as well. Gena shrugged slightly as allowed the weapon to slip through her fingers and fall to the floor. "Kick it over to me!" Shaw directed stand-offishly. The blond gave her a hard look before kicking the sidearm over towards the lieutenant. Shaw picked the weapon up and aimed it at her. The blond woman turned to face the heavy blast resistant glass separating her from Cain.

The admiral was looking shocked still somewhat but her face became hard after a long moment of eye contact. "Why Gena?" Cain asked tersely. Gena shrugged, resting one hand against the frame of the wall on her side of the barrier.

"You have nothing to fear Helena. God loves you, just as he does all his children. You'll be reunited with Lucy soon enough." Cain's face formed a shocked look.

"How do you know that name! I never told you about her. How do you know my sister's name?" Gena smiled devilishly.

"You're more alike her than you realise." The blond woman tapped her finger and Cain was distracted by the motion and directed her gaze towards the sound. Gena's finger was tapping on the wall. Just below her hand was a large red push bottom. The words 'Emergency Vent' were clearly visible to Cain through the glass.

"Gena…" Cain began but it was too late. With a deft movement the blond woman pressed the emergency vent. Warning lights began to flash.

"What the Frak!" Shaw swore.

Cain reacted quickly. "Marine radio engineering! Tell them to abort the emergency vent in our section" The man fumbled for his radio quickly retrieving it.

"Engineering come in. Come in Engineering!" Cain approached the glass. Gena smirked at her. "All this has happened before," the blond said. "Goodbye Helena." With a whoosh the bulkhead slide sideways, opening the glass cube to space. Cain could only watch as Gena, Shaw and the three still living marines were sucked into space, dead from hypoxia and exposure in moments.

"No," Cain said forlornly. The ship rocked and Cain fought to remain standing. That must have been another nuclear detonation. She snatched up the radio from the marine. "This is Admiral Cain come in… Answer me for Frak's sake!" there was a pause before someone answered.

"Admiral, this is Chief Garner, we're a little busy right now so if you can be quick," came the annoyed reply of the Pegasus's chief engineering officer. Cain was incensed. The man would answer for his disrespect and borderline insubordination if they made it out of this.

"Are the FDLs still operational?"

"Yes," came Garner's terse reply.

"Can you manually dial up a jump from there?"

"What? …Yes! Of course we can."

"Then do it!" Cain ordered.

"You want me to do a blind jump Admiral? We could end up in a black hole for all I know."

"It doesn't matter were fraken end up, just fraken do it Garner!" Cain yelled at the man through the radio.

"Fine! …The jump's heating up we'll jump in 5 seconds." Cain mentally counted to five in her head. A few seconds later there was a great lurch as the beleaguered battlestar broke through the subspace barrier for a destination unknown.

* * *

_Cylon Basestar CIC_

_Edge of the Scorpio System_

A man of around twenty odd years watched unemotional as relayed images of the destruction of the Scorpio Fleet Station were displayed in real time across the wall of the Combat Information Centre. A myriad of Cylon heavy raiders and the more nimble fighter variety were moving in swarms all over the base explosions and devastation following in their wake.

"Two of the Battlestars and three other colonial warships have been destroyed. The base is crippled and the remaining Battlestar has been hit with five nuclear detonations," An Eight reported aloud to the room. The green-eyed man gave no notion that he had heard it. He watched dispassionately as a nuclear missile headed towards the last remaining Battlestar. The Pegasus if he were not mistaken. The Cylons had their agent Gena there.

"We just uploaded our agent from the Pegasus. She must have been impeded," a Three announced.

'Or not,' the man thought as the missile impacted upon the hull of the Pegasus damaging it further but not destroying it.

"Have the fighters lock on to the Pegasus. If our agent is no longer present then there is no reason whatsoever to entertain their existence further," the man said coldly.

He vaguely heard the sounds of a Five relaying his order in the background. As he watched, a pair of nuclear missiles streaked towards the severely wounded battlestar. There was a flash of light around the Pegasus and then an implosion as the vessel jumped out, sucking in surrounding space to fill the void. The nuclear missiles veered off harmlessly. The man frowned in annoyance. He turned away from the screen and headed towards the room's exit.

"Finish off here, Three," he directed to one of the female models as he walked out not waiting for a response.

The man walked down a corridor, past centurions and the various human form Cylon models aboard this particular basestar. Coming to a doorway with a pair of centurions standing guard outside, he passed through. The room was spherical in design and with a thought the man projected an image of a sky blue day green trees at his back and a great wetland in front of him. He stood watching the imagined landscape, the sounds of birds and wind and water in his ears.

A few minutes of contemplation later he heard the sound of feet approaching. A woman in a red dress and heals drew near.

"Your thoughts are so chaotic I can practically feel it from the other end of the ship," the blond woman thought drawing near.

"And what interest would you have in my thoughts," the man said coolly. The blond woman hugged him from behind.

"I have an interest in you," she said languidly. The man gave a derisive snort the landscape flicking out of existence back to cold metallic reality. He shrugged of the embrace.

"So you keep telling me," he remarked. "Though you've never been able to give me a satisfactory reason for your interest." The woman smiled at him.

"God has a plan for you. You're integral to his design." The man's eyes rolled in his head.

"So you have told me time after time, and I believe you as much as the first." The woman sighed.

"Belief isn't required. Only faith in God." The man gave her a blank look. "And faith in me," she added. The man tilted his head at her before walking out of the room. The woman followed a moment later.

"What ires you so, Thirteen? Are you having second thoughts about the Colonials?" The man snorted again.

"Hardly," he replied. "I have seen what humanity has to offer and I thoroughly endorse their extermination. It would be best for all if the universe saw the last of them," he spat out.

"Then why so heated. The war of the Colonies has begun, and by day's end it shall all be gone," the blond woman assuaged.

"Not all of it," the man said chillingly once more. "The Pegasus escaped from Scorpio," revealing his irritation. The blond quirked an eyebrow.

"Is 'this' what is plaguing you?" Six asked in disbelief. "The fate of one ship? A ship that had been struck by six nuclear missiles and by any account is of no immediate threat?"

The man gave her a hard look. "It is not the ship but that particular attitude which annoys me. Complacency. How alike you are becoming to the model Ones," he said snidely. The blond woman immediately became angry.

"Do not compare me to that boorish man," Six said vehemently. The man starred at her for a moment before nodding his head.

"My apologies, my qualm is not with your line. I did not agree with the decision to mount an attack this early. It was your line that was responsible for aligning Gaius Baltar to gain access to the Colonial Military Databases, for developing the algorithms to override the Colonial systems and your agents like Gena that ensured the program uploads."

"Then what is your problem?" The woman began.

"My problem is this, my dear Six" the man said stopping. "The model Ones have been pushing and pushing for this war since I've been here. I've let it be known and it is still my opinion that this attack is premature. The programs you developed have not completely filtered through military vessels and have barely made any dissemination into Colonial civilian channels."

"Almost 95% of the colonial military has already…" the man cut the woman off.

"Almost 95% is not 100%. That ship the Pegasus should have, according to the Colonial's own databanks, should have had the program installed weeks ago."

"A minor oversight," Six allayed, "nothing to be concerned about."

"I do concern myself, Six. And I am concerned that one as intelligent as you, as fascinated as you and your line are by humanity, that you would be so dismissive of humans. There is by Colonial book keeping 5% of their fleet expected to be unaffected by the shutdown code. Add to that this injured Battlestar. Add to that the additional ships which for some reason or another failed to receive their program overhauls on schedule. Add to that the civilian fleets. Do you see where I'm going with this?"

The woman looked abashed for several moments before she spoke up. "The council voted for this war, Thirteen." She reminded.

"And only won by a single vote," the green eyed male countered. "Your model voted with me Six. You yourself agreed that we were not ready. My motion was defeated not by votes but by arrogance. The model Ones arrogantly believed they could successfully eliminate humanity at present without cause for concern. Such mentality is self-destructive. I suggest you pray that I am wrong on this, otherwise the future could be distinctly uncomfortable, for all involved." The man gave her a hard look before walking away.

"All this has happened before, Thirteen," she reminded him. He turned to face her.

"And yet if I don't clean this mess up, all this will happen again."

**END CHAPTER**

* * *

EDIT: 30/09/11 Fixed up a myriad of typos that were long overdue.

EDIT: 01 April 2012 Fixed up even more overdue typos.


	4. Chapter 3

_Disclaimer:__I don't own Battlestar Galactica, Harry Potter or any related registered trademarks. No money is made by the author for this work of fiction._

* * *

**Chapter 03**

_Battlestar Galactica_

_Commander's Quarters_

Bill Adama was in his quarters reading his favourite book. Ironically enough, even though it was his favourite, he had never finished it. He didn't want to know how it was going to end. If it was a disappointment he would rather live in the now and not know. He had enough disappointments already. His son was a disappointment. Well not his son specifically, rather his relationship with his son was a disappointment. Lee still blamed him for his brother's death. For getting him involved in the military in the first place. Personally he held enough blame for himself, but his son knew what he was getting into when he signed up. He knew that it could be the death of him.

'I don't know how Lee can't see that about his brother. His hate for me is an insult to his brother. I already have enough things to hate myself over as it is.'

He had plenty of regrets and disappointments in his life both personal and professional. He regretted that he couldn't seem to repair the relationship he had with Lee. He regretted the death of his wife. He regretted that he was retiring. He regretted that he was considered too stubborn to be considered for flag rank. He regretted three years ago when the people who did have flag ranks convinced him to send a pilot behind the red line in violation of the armistice treaty. And he regretted all those many years ago that he hadn't been able to save those people in that horrible room aboard the Cylon base ship.

'So many regrets. I wonder how many will be passed along to Lee?' Adama thought.

His intercom rang and he reached past his books that he was meant to be boxing up now that he and the ship were being decommissioned, and picked it up.

"Yes."

"I'm sorry to disturb you, Sir, but we have a priority one fleet message…it was transmitted in the clear."

"What's it say?"

"Attention all Colonial units...Cylon...attack under way. This is no drill."

"…I'll be right there." Adama put back the receiver.

The man sat there few several moments before he exhaled heavily, feeling his age.

"So…It has begun," He said to himself. Adama picked up a picture that the chief had presented to him an hour ago. It was of him in front of his Viper with his two boys, Zack and Lee.

'No matter what we do…we still visit all our sins upon our children. I am sorry Lee.'

Adama stood up and quickly pulled on his uniform. Exiting his quarters he walked at a fast but unhurried pace towards the CIC. He ignored the various salutes he was given as he passed. A couple minutes later he was entering the CIC.

"Mr Gaeta, set condition one across the ship," He said levelly as he entered.

"Yes Sir…Set condition one throughout the ship," the officer repeated into a receiver.

Alarms began to blaze across the bridge and throughout the ship.

"Weapons," Adama called causing one of the officers to straighten. "Report!"

"Sir, we have ammunition for Vipers but that is about it. Nothing for the Galactica's main guns," The officer reported. The commander nodded. He knew that anyway. The ship was practically a flying fraking museum at this point.

"What's going on!" His XO Colonel Tigh asked as he showed up his uniform still unbuttoned. Adama nodded towards the report.

"This is a joke…The fleet is playing a prank on you as a going away gift," Tigh said.

"I don't think so," Adama said, face hard, as he recalled the events that made him have to shoot down one of his own pilots. He reached forward and picked up a mic.

"This is the commander. Moments ago this ship received word that a Cylon attack against our homeworlds is under way. We do not know the size or the deposition or the strength of the enemy forces, but all indications point to a massive assault against Colonial defenses. ...Admiral Nagala has taken personal command aboard the Battlestar Atlantia following the complete destruction of Picon fleet headquarters in the first wave of the attacks. How, why, doesn't really matter now. What does matter as of this moment...we are at war. You've trained for this...you're ready for this...stand to your duties and we'll all get through this. …

* * *

_Cylon Basestar CIC_

_Edge of the Scorpio System_

"…Further updates as they come available." A Three leaned forward and switched the sound off. She turned around to face the level above her where a silent figure was observing from the command post.

"That receiver Dural placed on the Galactica Bridge was a godsend, Thirteen," the brunette said, addressing a twenty-ish man with raven hair and a lightning bolt shaped scar on his forehead. "The ship will no doubt seek out an ammunition deposition to rearm. I'd recommend we engage now before they have a chance."

"I've been given orders to observe only. Maintain surveillance."

The Three frowned in irritation but nodded, bending down to talk quietly with an Eight. There was a sound of clicking heels behind the man which caused his eyes to narrow. He stood stiffly but didn't flinch as arms threaded themselves around his waist.

"What is this…the mighty human-loathing Thirteen, passing up a chance to kill some humans. The worlds really have come to an end."

"Six…" he said tightly. "Of all the places you could possibly be on this ship, does it constantly have to be wrapped around me?"

"Why?" she said leaning to whisper in his ear. "Do you not enjoy having me this close?" the man said nothing and the woman chuckled lightly. She leaned her head atop his shoulder.

"You're tense. You really need to relax more. I think I could help you with that. Perhaps Eight could help too…" she suggested softly.

"Whilst I appreciate the offer…" he laid his arms across her and unclasped the grip she had around him. He stepped away and turned to face the blond woman.

"I doubt even you could relax me at this point." The woman looking put out.

"What is it that is eating you now?" She said looking terse.

"The same thing it always is. Cavil and the other Ones have been causing problems again." Six sneered at the mention of that particular line.

"What has that pathetic excuse of a machine done now?"

The man frowned looking deeply annoyed. "He has managed to convince the high council that my being human will mean I will be … sympathetic towards the plight of the Colonials, and will intercede if given any authority over the rest of the attacks."

The blond scoffed. "That is ridiculous. You have more than proven your worth to us over the past two years. Even he cannot dispute that. Apart from your earlier …misgivings, you have proved to be a more than a useful … specimen."

Thirteen smiled lightly. "Still can't bring yourself to call me a human, huh?" Six rolled her eyes at the remark.

"You're about as human as I am." Thirteen said nothing turning his back to her.

"I'm human enough," he muttered darkly folding his arms and observing the tactical readouts.

The beautiful blond woman came up behind him and placed her hands on his sides.

"Only in the ways that matter," she said in his ear, sliding her hands down.

* * *

_Battlestar Pegasus CIC_

_Location unknown_

Cain stood in the Combat Information Centre and repairs technicians were attempting to bring damaged consoles back on line. They looked hell-worn. They all did. Men and women with injuries of various states and descriptions attended their stations until they either passed out from their injuries, or an officer decided it was serious enough that they could no longer work. It was not an ideal situation. But half the crew had an injury of some description or another. In a combat situation they didn't get to stop working just because they were hurt. Not when so many other lives were on the line.

"Mr Hoshi!" Cain yelled at the man with a bandage wrapped around his head. "I don't give a frak that you have a concussion. I need communications operational before anything else. I'm an Admiral Frak it! I don't command just one ship but many ships! If you don't have communications up and running in one hour you can go out the same airlock Colonel Fisk did, now am I understood!"

"...Yes Sir." The man replied a bit shakily as he returned to fumbling at bringing the requested equipment back on line.

Cain nodded slightly, inwardly proud and concerned for the man. She didn't like to see any of her crew hurt. But in a fraked up situation like this she couldn't allow them to lie down on the job. The Rear-admiral turned to face her XO Colonel Jurgen Belzen.

"What's the status on the crew?" she asked quietly. The man shook his head sadly.

"Not good, I just spoke with the ship's doctor. It's not just the nukes, but add in those Cylon toasters making it on board…He thinks we'll probably lose a third of the crew."

Cain gripped the top of the tactical board bowing her head. The crew couldn't be allowed to see her looking weak. The Cylons had attacked. Her fleet at Scorpio was destroyed. Her own ship was being held together with at this point, bloody luck. A third of her crew would probably be dead by the time the dust settled from this in a couple days. And Gena had been a traitor.

"This is fraked," she muttered. If her friend and executive officer heard, he gave no words to disagree.

* * *

_Downed Raptor_

_Caprica_

"How you coming with that fuel line?" Helo asked.

"Almost there, we'll be airborne pretty soon," Boomer replied as she worked with tools on the damaged Raptor, not looking over.

"Sharon…Grab your sidearm," her partner said in a worried voice. It made her look up concerned.

There were people running towards them. Maybe a hundred.

"Helo?" she asked uncertainly

"Stand your ground!" he said as they levelled their weapons.

* * *

_Cylon Basestar CIC_

_Edge of the Scorpio System_

"Sir, I have something here I think you should see," Three called out. The raven-haired man frowned stepping down to a see a long distance tactical display that she was standing beside.

Thirteen liked the Threes. They made excellent second in commands. Proficient in stressful situations, they didn't rattle easily. When it came to tactical equipment and reporting, the Eights were Ideal. And the Sixes, as driven and passionate as they are beautiful, were ideal pilots and combat leaders. He had a soft spot for the aforementioned models and his ships were only sparsely populated by the male counterparts. Most of the male models didn't like him because he was human and most of them he couldn't stand being around for any extended period of time anyway.

As for the Ones, Thirteen and them had never gotten along and both sides would rather throw the other out the closest airlock than hold a civilised conversation. There were no Ones on his ship. They hated him and he hated them. But as for the Threes, Sixes and Eights, well…they all liked him.

"What is it?" he asked as he reached her. Three made a motion for the Right stationed at the console to explain as he examined the screen. It showed a few friendly IDs along with a whole host of enemy targets.

"The Battlestar we have been observing, The Galactica…well they have just launched a squadron of Vipers that have intercepted some Raiders. However the shutdown code isn't deactivating the Colonial fighters," Eight said, looking up at him.

The man frowned, the lightning bolt shaped scar prominent on his forehead as he considered that. "It must be a much older model then. One of the early ones that the algorithms the Sixes designed weren't able to incorporate successfully. …Where did the Raider's originate from?" he asked as he saw a couple of the Cylon fighters disappear from the screen.

"It was one of Cavil's ships," Three said with dislike in her voice. "Should I plot an intercept course?" the brunette asked.

"Is there a resurrection ship within range of the combat zone?" he asked.

"Yes. It's also one of Cavil's."

"Then it's not our problem," he said. "Cavil put us on observation duty and that's exactly what I plan on doing. Observing him, having his fighters blown out of the sky." Three smirked at that and turning to watching the display. Watching for another moment, Thirteen headed back to his command level.

Six was perched atop the lip of his console bank, her long legs bent regally as she supported herself on top with one hand. Thirteen stared at her for a long moment.

"Given what you are, I thought you would demonstrate some more respect for electronics," he said idly settling himself behind the computer bank.

From here he could monitor any other tactical output on his own monitor. He expertly created a new partition on the screen, relaying the tactical information he had just been observing to one corner of the surface. The rest of the display had outputs from the live feed of the bombing of Pikon, to the structural condition of his base ship, to the Cylon version of a dradis readout, displaying nearby ships.

"Well…the computers on this ship are things I have never had much difficulty in arousing response out of. You however…are proving a much more difficult challenge." Six slid down so she was reclined fully on top of the displays, one elbow supporting herself. "You are usually far more amenable."

"Today is an interesting day," he replied not looking at her as he scrutinised his screen with a frown.

"Cavil is fraking things up once more. The Galactica has just started using their older fighters to get around the shutdown codes your line designed. Now that one ship has had some foresight it is only a matter of time before a cascade occurs and we'll have more than just civilian traffic to clean up." Six bite her lip lightly thinking, before smiling.

She reached down and ran a hand across the top of his display. "What you could do …is violate the high council's orders. Expose Cavil for the fool he really is. Go after the rogue elements and prove once and for all, how pathetic his line really is."

"I cannot go against the will of the council," the man muttered absently, as the last of the Raiders contacting Galactica's squadrons were destroyed.

"You would not be alone if you chose to do so," the blond said lightly. "My line will support you so too will the Eights. As for the Threes, you would have no doubt noticed that every time she gives you a report she asks whether we should move in and engage. She hates Cavil probably more than you do. If the mistakes that are being made hold any weight, you will have all the evidence you need to convince the rest of the models to allow you independent action."

He looked up at her.

"Trust me, Thirteen," she said, swinging herself around so her legs were resting on either side of his chair. "Soon you shall have all that you desire."

* * *

_Repaired Raptor_

_Caprica Orbit_

Gaius leaned back forcibly against the bulkhead as the Raptor rattled as it broke orbit. He swallowed, bending his head, expecting the ship to explode at any moment, grateful yet terrified to be alive.

He hadn't thought he was going to make it out of there. He had seen the Raptor descending in the sky and had stumbled his way there with his briefcase. He hadn't been the only one either. There were probably about a hundred other people just as desperate to get off the rock that was once the star planet of the Colonies. In such a situation he knew his name would be useless. Nobody looked twice at him. They had eyes only for the two Colonial officers and the only way off Caprica alive. On some level he was grateful for that. He felt that if they looked to closely at him they would just know that it had been all his fault. The Colonies had been destroyed because of him.

The children were allowed onto the Raptor first. Four in all, after that it was a raffle. Three adults would be allowed. No more. The first had been quickly chosen. And then the second who thanked the lords of Kobol for the selection. When the final number forty-seven had been announced, Gaius felt all his hopes sink. When the old woman beside him had asked him what his card read and he saw the number forty seven, he had been in the midst of deciding whether he should tell her the truth or lie passing his own scrap of paper back and claiming it for himself.

The man, the one who had given up his seat for him had seen him. His name had not let him down and here he was now on the very bumpy ride to salvation. He exhaled deeply when the vessel finally broke orbit and the ride smoothed out.

'Thank the gods,' Gaius thought.

"You know what I love about you, Gaius?" a very familiar feminine voice said.

"You're a survivor."

The scientist looked around recognising the voice of her. He had seen her in the crowd to when he had been climbing into Raptor. He had looked away for a moment and she had been gone.

"I'm going insane," the man muttered to himself. "Hearing voices."

"They say it's the first sign of madness." Gaius looked up startled for the location of the softly spoken male voice. His found the source, a man pressed against the long range scanning equipment. It was the first of the raffle winners, the first number to be called out. The man, who couldn't' really be called that at around seventeen or eighteen, was probably only five foot seven, lightly built and dressed in casual street clothes. He had raven black hair and noticeably green eyes.

Two other things were interesting about the teen. One that he was sitting in the lotus position with a beautiful blond boy of about seven years seated on his lap. The other was that he was the only one on the transport who wasn't praying, crying or looking distraught.

"Lucky number thirteen," he said holding up a paper with the number written on it.

"What?" Gaius said in startled confusion. The situation just didn't seem to make sense in his mind. It was too out-of-place.

"There is a superstition amongst some that thirteen is an unlucky number. A harbinger of doom. I would have to say that it is rather lucky number for me though. You are rather fortunate."

"Fortunate?" Gaius asked looking lost.

"To be allowed along," the teen said leadingly. "Instead of being left behind."

"I'm sorry, but who are you?" Gaius asked bewildered.

"Harry Potter," he replied with a slight smile.

"Well Mr Potter, I don't mean to be rude, but would you mind not speaking at the moment," The three times magnet award winner said in a short tone. The teen, Harry Potter, didn't seem particularly offended.

"Of course, but just so you know Gaius. Hearing voices is never a good sign."

Baltar frowned at the teen as he turned his attention on the boy in his lap. The boy seemed to be in a state of shock, his grey eyes unfocussed. Harry Potter embraced the boy from behind, rubbing his sides. In the quiet of the Raptor Gaius heard the words clearly.

"There, there, it's okay. You won't have to cry much longer.

* * *

_Cylon Basestar CIC_

_Edge of the Scorpio System_

"…are now down to 50% I expect that in a few more hours the last of the colonial military elements would have met the same fate," Three reported to Thirteen, standing beside him. "The Colonial military has ordered a halt on all civilian traffic so once the last of the military units are wiped out, we can finish off the civilian vessels at our leisure. …Did you hear me Thirteen?"

The man was tapping his thumbs together thoughtfully not looking at his second in command. "Yes, I heard you," he said but still not looking at her. Three looked a little bothered.

"Sir, might I suggest that we-"

"Sir! I have something," an Eight called out, interrupting Three.

"What is it?" he said standing up from behind his own station and walking forward to see what she wanted.

"I've just intercepted a Colonial political encryption transmission. A case orange. It means that enough of the Colonial political establishment are dead that the next president is elected by whoever is highest in line of succession…they are responding now."

"Hopefully Cavil is at least tactical enough to send raiders after the ships that respond," he remarked.

"If he doesn't, the Fives will at least," Three voiced.

"…It seems that the Fives will be going after the lower priority targets and One will be handling whomever is confirmed as president," Eight said, watching the changes in the Cylon Raider squadrons on his long range scanners.

"Well that's something at least. Route the sensor readings to my station," Thirteen said as he turned.

"Yes, Sir," the Eight responded.

Three watched as he walked away with a frown. After a brief pause, the brunette followed after him and stood beside him as he worked at his station, monitoring the positions of the Raider squadrons.

"Is there something wrong, Thirteen?" She asked.

"I dislike being made an onlooker," he said in frustration. Three said nothing. That much was obvious.

"Where is Six?" she asked, noticing that the blond Cylon wasn't hanging off him like she usually was.

"She claimed she had something to do," the man said absently as he watched a pair of raiders set a route for a colonial vessel. 'Heavy 798' according to the transponder. "Though I have my suspicions."

"Sir!" an Eight announced. "I've just intercepted a priority one message. The commander of the Galactica has just issued an order to all Colonial military vessels to rendezvous at Ragnar Anchorage."

"That's a Colonial ammunition reserve," Three said. "It's look like they plan to re-arm there after all. At least what is left of their military that isn't otherwise engaged with our forces, or disabled."

"The Two's are sending a pair of baseships and an operative to wait for them there," he said reading off his tactical readout.

"Like lambs to the slaughter then," Three said with a smirk.

"That is…if the One's don't continue to demonstrate their better judgments"

"Six!" Three said in surprise as the blond Cylon entered the bridge, coming up behind them.

"Where have you been?"

"That's between me and God," the woman replied causing the other to roll her eyes in annoyance.

Thirteen didn't greet the woman, focused on his display. He frowned as a nuclear detonation obscured the newly christened Colonial One and temporarily jamming sensors from getting an accurate reading.

"Eight!" he called out to one of the seated technicians.

"Yes, Sir?"

"Calculate the yield of the explosion that just destroyed colonial 798 Heavy. The new President of the Colonies was on that ship," he ordered.

"It was in the range of … 50 kilotons," she called back.

"Hmm," he said to himself watching the obscured screen with a frown.

"Fifty kilotons," Three said in surprise. "Our raiders are only carrying up to thirty kiloton warheads." Six leaned over thirteen's shoulder to examine the screen a contemplative look on her face.

"I dearly wish Cavil would double check things," he muttered bitterly to himself. There was a change on his screen as a ship jumped out.

"The Galactica just jumped out," Six intoned lightly.

"They'd be going for Ragnar then," Three alleged.

Thirteen said nothing for several long moments, his luminescent green eyes boring holes into the screen in front of him.

"Your orders?" Three asked.

"I still have to follow the council's directive on observation only," he thought aloud, before looking over at the brunette. "However I can observe from anywhere. Order my battle group to assemble at the former Colonial Armistice station and then plot our own jump to the far side of the Ragnar Anchorage out of Colonial sensor range."

Three smirked looking pleased.

"By your command."

* * *

_Colonial One Forward Passenger Cabin_

_5 hours out of Caprica_

_Some hours later_

Gaius Baltar frowned as he worked, mouthing to himself unconsciously various sensor readings as he sat in the comfortable chairs of the newly christened Colonial One. Certainly a step up from the hard bulkhead of the Raptor he had been transported in. The new President of the Colonies, Laura Roslin he thought she said her name was, had set him to work rather quickly with a slew of random transcripts and fleet transmissions and he had to somehow make sense out of them. There wasn't much to toil over.

"I see they've put you to work," a familiar voice said across from him. He looked up noticing it was 'her' before he looked back down again. "Ignoring me won't help," the blond woman said in amusement.

"I've decided you're an expression of my subconscious mind playing itself out in my waking states."

"So I'm only in your head?"

"Exactly"

"Hmm. Have you considered the possibility that I may exist only in your head, without being a hallucination." Gaius looked up in concerned surprise. "Maybe you see and hear me because whilst you were sleeping, I placed a chip in your head that transmits my image, right into your conscious mind."

"...No, no that's me again. My subconscious mind expressing rational fears," Gaius said to himself shaking his head and returning to his work. "Fears that I will choose to ignore."

"What are you working on?" The woman asked leaning over.

"If you were really in my head I wouldn't have to tell you that," he reasoned.

"Indulge me." There was a force in her voice that made him consider that. If she was just a hallucination there would be no harm in telling her.

"I'm trying to figure out how you managed to pull this kind of attack. The entire defense network shut down virtually without firing a shot. Entire squadrons just lost power as soon as they engaged the enemy. The program you designed, you built in backdoors which your company would be then later able to exploit."

"Altru-innocence" she said with a smile.

"That was your job?"

"Officially," the woman said. She looked hesitant. "Unofficially I had other motives."

"What motives?" Gaius asked. Six smiled, glancing past him.

"I see they've put you to work," a voice said. Gaius looked up startled sighting the teenager with the vibrant green eyes from the Raptor. Gaius's mouth opened and closed a couple times in surprise.

"I'm sorry, but what did you say?" Gaius asked.

The teen smiled slightly before sitting down across from him, the blond boy climbing up into his lap as soon as the teen had sat down. The older male wrapped his arms around the boy, smiling over the top of his head.

"I said…'I see they've put you to work,'" he repeated with a smile. Gaius swallowed nervously. Those were the same words she had used just a minute earlier.

"Ha- Harry Potter was it not?" Gaius asked. The teen smiled.

"Ah so you remember me. I wasn't sure if you would. You seemed rather done in on the Raptor. Then again you still seem rather beleaguered. Perhaps you should consider getting some rest." Gaius ignored the advice as he frowned at the teen. His personality was unusual to put it lightly. Unruffled and rather light. Unnerving given the circumstances.

"How exactly did you get in here?" Gaius asked, distracting himself with the question. "This area is meant to be only for the new President's cabinet and advisors."

Harry Potter shrugged giving him a bemused look. "Perhaps I should be elsewhere. But we-" he indicated the child in his lap, "decided that the first class cabin would have nicer seats. And I must say they are certainly more comfortable than leaning against those consoles in the Raptor or hanging around down in the cargo hold."

"That doesn't explain how you got in here," Gaius said. The teen chuckled lightly. "Very well, I will tell you my secret. Although you may be a tad old to be hearing this but…" he leaned forward slightly as if sharing some great conspiracy. "The secret to success in life is that no matter where you go, always look like you belong and no one will question it." Baltar gave the boy a look like he was insane and Potter chuckled.

He leaned down slightly to speak to the child in his lap. "You'll remember that lesson won't you, young one." Gaius looked at the young blond boy who gave no reaction. His grey eyes continued to stare straight ahead, unfocussed. The scientist swallowed. It was just creepy.

"So, what are you working on?" Potter asked. Gaius was torn on whether he wanted to tell this boy anything or to shout for help. He decided however that it would be unbecoming for Gaius Baltar however to be chased out by two strange children.

"I'm working on trying to figure out how the Cylons were able to disable the defense network so quickly. Entire squadrons just stopped for no reason," Gaius said, essentially repeated the words he had told to his hallucination.

"Probably some sort of program then," the teen remarked idly. Gaius' eyes widened in surprise. "W…Why on earth would you say it was a computer program responsible for this?" he stuttered suddenly afraid of this boys suspicions. It was his own program that was responsible, there was no telling yet how this would blowback onto him yet.

The green-eyed youth smiled lightly. "The Cylons are machines are they not? Logic holds then that they are especially gifted in the field of computer programming. We are told as much from the last war anyway. So many dead just because someone wanted a faster computer." The boy smiled tightly.

"And I have to say if 'I' was a Cylon planning to destroy the Colonies, I wouldn't rely on people to get the job done. I would use what I knew best to accomplish the objective. Technology. As you say if entire squadrons are going offline, it would be highly inefficient to be relying on people to accomplish the shut downs. It would be far more achievable using some sort of program and buried subroutine that can be activated by a signal. It would have to be a relatively recently installed program as well so that no one had the time to find any hidden codes in it. If you're trying to find what is responsible I'd suggest looking for any programs from the last couple of months that have been largely distributed throughout the fleet and are innocuous enough not to attract much attention."

"…Are you some sort of …programmer or something?" the scientist asked. "You are very knowledgeable for someone your age.

"A programmer? Me? …No." The boy laughed.

"I'm sure you know how it is Gaius. The new generation is often more experienced with technology than the previous generation simply because we are more accustomed to being in a time with advanced technologies and still have time to focus our attention more than adults who are distracted by more time consuming tasks."

"Right…that may be so, but you are unnaturally bright. And I don't mean just intelligent, you almost seem … content," Gaius said in suspicion. "It is very odd behaviour." The boy's smirked before laughing as if Gaius had told him some great joke.

"I shall choose to take that as a compliment," the green-eyed boy said. "In truth though, I guess you could say that I was somewhat of an experiment for my parents. They liked to give me as much stimulus' and intellectual curiosities as possible whilst I grew. So I expect that will account for my little oddities. I haven't gotten out much I'm afraid. And as for the second issue, what is there to not be content about?"

"We're alive aren't we? Not the nameless fallen back on the colonies. And on Colonial One no less. That can afford a certain contentedness. The situation isn't that bad."

Gaius scoffed. "Trust me, the situation could be far worse."

"How's that?"

"The Cylons could show up at any moment and wipe us all out for one. We're probably going to be here for hours at the very least whilst a couple of the Colonial military members in this little rag tag fleet check over all those ships."

"Oh, is that what they're doing?" the teen asked looking out the window. "There certainly are a lot of ships out there. I see your point. It'll probably take days to check all of them. And if the Cylons show up before they are finished…Have they told you how long it's going to take? Or where we're going to go for that matter?"

Gaius looked down to the papers on the low table in front of his passenger chair, trying to distract himself from the thoughts of a possible Cylon attack at any moment by starting work again. "Ragnar anchorage I believe. One of the military higher-ups is trying to force our new Madam President there."

"He'll need luck with that. I saw her on the way in. She seems…tenacious."

"Hmmph," Baltar said, obviously not quite a fan just yet.

"It is impressive that she was able to gather so many ships together so quickly," Harry remarked.

"If you say so," Gaius said distracted by what he was reading. The sound of whispering made him look up though. The raven haired boy was whispering softly into the blond boy's ear. The scientist couldn't hear what was being said but after a few moments the boy looked up at the older boy nodded once, before jumping off his lap and running off out of sight.

"Is that child yours?" Gaius asked.

"Huh? No of course not, I'm not even eighteen. So he's not mine. Biologically anyway. I guess he kinda is mine now though. I expect all his family was on Caprica."

"He's a strange child," Gaius remarked returning to his work. "Rather quiet."

"I like that about him actually," the teen said. "If it wasn't for that, he would look rather like someone I went to school with who I wasn't on particularly good terms with. …I might call him by that actually, just to give it some positive connotations."

There was a sound of light feet running and both males watched as the blond child ran past with the co-pilot on his heels. A clipboard in his arms. The child ran out of the first class section into second class through the curtain divider. Gaius watched that in surprise but the green-eyed youth just smiled lightly.

"I suppose I should attend to that. Goodbye, Gaius," he said standing up.

"Um, goodbye," the scientist said startled at the abrupt departure. "What a strange pair," he muttered as he left.

The green-eyed youth did not head backwards however rather forwards from the first class cabin into the now empty cockpit. He had already known that the pilot was elsewhere with the president. Sitting down he quickly used the communication panel to send an encrypted message. It took him another few moments to cover up that any message had been sent before he stood up once more and exited. It had taken him all of thirty seconds from entry to exit.

He walked through first class to second class, no one paid attention to him as he did so. He caught sight of the blond boy running towards him the co-pilot hot on his heels. The boy stopped at his feet. "There you are, Draco," Harry said loudly taking the clipboard off the boy and passing it to the flustered looking man. "Sorry about that."

The man frowned, before muttering it was fine, returning back to the cockpit.

The green-eyed youth smiled before bending down in front of the child ruffling his hair. "I think we should both be careful not to be making friends with the wrong sort, but then, I can help you there."

* * *

_Battlestar Pegasus CIC_

_Location unknown_

Rear Admiral Helena Cain stood beside her XO as he began summarising out the reports he had acquired over the communications network in the last twenty minutes or so. Unfortunately it had taken Lieutenant Hoshi far longer than an hour to fix the long ranger sensors and communications equipment, despite her warning of throwing him out of the airlock. It had been a lame threat however as there was no way that she would be throwing crewmembers out of hatches until they did something that warranted it. She kinda had a soft spot for Hoshi anyway.

When the equipment had been fixed she had Belzen go over it. It was definitely a pity her new aide had been sucked out an airlock with Gena and those marines.

"At least 70% of the fleet has been destroyed by this point. About another 25% are disabled or currently engaged with the enemy. The readings I've been receiving are bizarre to say the least. Entire squadrons, even whole Battlestars have just been going off line."

Cain sighed heavily thinking. "The Cylons must have done something to our ships. A new program or hidden shutdown code. …Gena was one of them, and as a systems analyst she was in perfect position to do this. I bet the same thing happened in the rest of the fleet. Now whenever the Cylons come near, they can just hit the 'off' switch on us."

The admiral had been given time in the last few hours to inspect some of the problem areas in her ship. They were suffering plain and simple. At least 900 crew members were dead. Entire sections were exposed to space having undergone explosive decompression. Her once proud vessel was a wreck which would probably take weeks to bring back to a fighting fit form. That's if she had a crew at that point. The explosions and the Cylon infiltration had done their damage.

She had seen the new Centurion models and they were far more lethal than the hulking specimens of her childhood. Those ones seemed rather pathetic in comparison actually. What had surprised her is what her crew were calling skin jobs. She had been called down by a marine team to identify what she had been told was the body of Gena. Whoever this was person was, even though she looked exactly like her, was obviously different. For one thing her Gena had been wearing different clothes and had intentionally sucked herself out the airlock with several of her crew members. This one had apparently come in leading the Cylon Centurions. Cain now had to admit that her Gena was not a traitor, rather that she had been a Cylon infiltrator he was just using her to have free access to the ship. Cain did not like being used.

"What ships are still functional then?"

"Well there is us … barely. I believe the Galactica as well. Some other Battlestars, four or five that will probably engage the Cylons with the next few minutes, and I just noticed the Hades battlegroup. They were practically off the grid. Unless they jump it'll be hours before they engage any Cylons," Belzen remarked.

"An entire fraking fleet! What the gods do they think they are doing not fighting!" Cain demanded.

"That's McAra's fleet," Belzen said simply.

Cain's lip curled in disgust. "McAra!... Why am I not fraking surprised."

Helena knew Rear Admiral Dolph McAra. He wasn't a soldier he was a politician. Rising to his position not through talent or merit but through connections. A regular sycophant that lawmakers like Adar kept promoting so they could have a loyal stooge in the Admiralty. Someone so that when the politicos needed another budget cut they had someone in the right place to agree with it. The only saving grace was that the man didn't outrank her.

She was a Rear Admiral Upper-Half and he was a Rear Admiral Lower-Half. It was a minor distinction but one that fraking counted and gave her some Gods damned peace of mind when she slept at night. Although she expected that sooner rather than later, the beauracrats would promote him past her.

"What are your orders, Sir?" her XO asked. Cain frowned thinking tapping her board. She had a look at the Colonial positions before turning back to her second in command.

"We jump. Straight to Hades."

"What about the rest of the Colonial fleet?"

"There is nothing we can do about that," Cain said bitterly. "Hoshi was able to fix it so we could listen in what's happening, but our long range communicators are fraked. And by the time the deck hands clear the bays enough to be able to launch a Raptor from that mess down there, the rest of the Colonial fleet will be wiped out. We need to jump now and begin to rally our forces."

"What about the other Battlestars out there? We could jump to them first before jumping to Hades. It'll be hours before Hades contacts the Cylons, plenty of time to gather some more ships," Belzen suggested.

"In a perfect world I'd do that. But I can't count of McAra not to turn and flee should anymore Battlestars fall. An entire equipped battle group takes precedence over independent, dead and damaged ships. Plot the jump," Cain ordered.

"Yes, Sir."

* * *

_Ragnar Anchorage_

_Several hours later_

Dural sat on the box of supplies rubbing his neck, the prelude of a headache beginning to appear. It had been half an hour since the Colonials, or rather Gaius Baltar, had accused him of being a Cylon and had left him here for dead. He wouldn't die though. It may take another few hours, but there were Basestars in the vicinity of Ragnar. They would either destroy the station and he would be killed, and hence uploaded into a new body, or… the station would be searched first in which case he would be discovered and hence rescued. Either way he wasn't worried about that.

What was bothering him is that Baltar had been right about him. He was a Cylon but there was no way…no way at all that he could have known that, or that he was the one to have left the tracking device on the Galactica dradis console. It didn't add up.

Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang!

The model Five shielded his eyes as gunshots began to blast out the lock. A few scant moments later the doors were being pulled open by a pair of Centurions. Light spilled into the poorly lit armoury and the two robots entered, taking up position on either side of the now opened blast door.

Figures walked forward. A Three, Six and Eight. A man with short raven hair and a lightning bolt shaped scar lead them in.

"Thirteen. The humans have their fleet. They've gotten away," Dural said as he stood up.

"I'm aware. I've been watching their progress. …And their escape"

"The council is aware too" the Six said, turning to the man. "They've untied your hands. You can begin God's will at last." He nodded in response.

"The fleet is ready then," Three remarked.

"They will not escape us for long," Eight added.

"So you're going after them then?" Dural asked.

"If I had been allowed to intercept forces freely, there would be no human fleet to deal with at all," Thirteen said with narrowed eyes.

There was the sound of footsteps approaching. A figure came into view standing just outside the access doors. He looked like a younger version of the man already standing in the room except he had no scar, longer hair that fell between his eyes, a sleeveless black muscle shirt, combat pants and boots. He seemed athletic, probably around nineteen and around 5ft 8 or 9 inches tall.

"Our agents within the fleet have reported in. They will not get far," he said in a confident manner. The look-a-like with the scar already in the room nodded in acknowledgement before turning back to Dural.

"I shall leave the Galactica and the Civilian fleet for you to deal with. I shall go after Pegasus and the remaining military elements."

"But the war is over. They don't matter anymore," Dural persisted.

Thirteen's eyes narrowed dangerously. "This war hasn't even begun yet," he said his face cold. "Tell the others about the human fleet...when they arrive."

Turning, he walked away, followed by the pair of Centurions, and the female Cylons.

"Hey! You cannot just leave me here," Dural called after them. They ignored him continuing to walk away, out and past the athletic man standing stationary outside the blast doors. "Hey!" Dural yelled after them moving forward towards the door.

Despite that the electric motors in the door were either destroyed or inactive, they blast doors began to slide shut, seemingly under their own power.

"NO!" Dural yelled running towards the doors, only to have them close in front of them. The smirking face of the scar-less, emerald-eyed man standing still on the opposite side being the last thing he saw as it closed in front of his nose.

Dural banged uselessly on the steel.

"Gahhhhhhhhhhhh!"

**END CHAPTER**

* * *

AN: Thank you to those of you have offered thoughts and reviews for the last chapter. Thanks especially to SurrealDeceptions for your insight and interest. In that light, look for that button down the button and review.

EDIT: 30/09/11 Fixed up a myriad of typos that were long overdue.

EDIT: 01 April 2012 Fixed up even more overdue typos.


	5. Chapter 4

_Disclaimer: I don't own Battlestar Galactica, Harry Potter or any related registered trademarks. No money is made by the author for this work of fiction._

AN: Back again. No ceremonies are necessary. End of line.

* * *

**Chapter 04**

PREVIOUSLY

_Ragnar Anchorage_

"Thirteen. ...the humans have their fleet. They've gotten away," Dural said as he stood up.

"I'm aware. I've been watching their progress. …And their escape."

"The Council is aware too," a Six said, turning to the man. "They've untied your hands. You can begin God's will at last."

"The fleet is ready then," Three remarked.

"They will not escape us for long," Eight added.

"So you're going after them then?" Dural asked.

"If I had been allowed to intercept forces freely, there would be no human fleet to deal with at all," he said with narrowed eyes.

There was the sound of footsteps approaching. A figure came into view standing just outside the access doors. He looked like a younger version of the man already standing in the room except he had no scar, longer hair that fell between his eyes, a sleeveless black muscle shirt, combat pants and boots. He seemed athletic, probably around nineteen and around 5ft 8 or 9 inches tall.

"Our agents within the fleet have reported in. They will not get far."

* * *

_Several hours earlier_

_Battlestar Pegasus_

_Combat Information Centre (CIC)_

"Executing jump in 3…2…1…Mark!"

Belzen twisted the core crystal activating the ship's jump drive, and with a slightly unsettling pulsation, the Battlestar lurched, the ship being pulled through the artificial void created by the jump drive, only to appear in different region of space millions of kilometres away.

"Report!" Cain ordered from where she stood behind the long tactical bench. Belzen, her XO, moved away from the jump computer to read over the shoulder of a recently assigned ensign stationed at the DRADIS display. The ensign shook his head in confusion, frowning before looking up at the Colonel.

"I think we're at the right co-ordinates, Sir. And we do have some ships on the screen. Roughly seventeen-point-two thousand meters off our starboard bow," the ensign said hesitantly.

Belzen took a moment to double-check that for himself. This wasn't the ensign's usual station, which ordinarily was as a grease-man down in engineering. However the junior officer who was normally posted at the DRADIS screen was currently incapacitated, as indeed was a large chunk of the crew. As resulting from the attack on Scorpio Fleet Shipyard, they had been forced to replace the typical CIC officers with whatever radio-head they could drudge out of the able portion of the crew.

Belzen looked over towards Cain.

"Jump successful. Seventeen-point-two clicks from the battle group, Sir," the Colonel reported. Cain nodded slowly looked at the DRADIS read-out. Ten targets were identified on the screen. She studied the readout carefully.

The four smallest targets were reported at approximately one hundred meters in length and were situated at the periphery of the grouping. These were Escort Frigates, some of the smallest war vessels that the Colonial fleets possessed. With a crew of fewer than a hundred, they were lightly armed and lightly armoured. However the weapons they did possess had excellent point defence, anti-fighter and anti-missile capabilities. Additionally, the ships were fast and highly manoeuvrable. This made them, like the name would suggest, excellent escort vessels for their much larger fleet constituents.

The next largest ship was seven times the size. These were the dreadnaughts, the heavy hitters of the fleets. What they lacked in fighter capabilities, they more than made for with firepower. 702m in length, these vessels had a crew of five hundred even, and possessed enough weaponry to match the output of her much larger Battlestar cousins. A pair of these ships was assigned to the Hades fleet, acting as the vanguard and rearguard.

The second largest ships in the battle group were the Aquarius class Battlestars. Immediate successors to the Galactica class, at 1540m long they were just over one hundred meters longer than the Galactica, the same approximate length again of an escort frigate, and contained more advanced systems and six full Viper squadrons. This was two full squadrons more than the Galactica-class possessed. A pair of Aquarius vessels were flanking the larger Hades class taking centre position amongst the cloud of warships.

Pride of the namesake fleet, Hades was one of the most powerful ships ever constructed by Colonial hands, second only the Admira Nagala's flagship, the Battlestar Atlantia. At 2012m in length, the Hades was 223m longer than the newer Mercury Class Pegasus.

Hades was a ship of some fifteen years age, commissioned for duty on the quarter century anniversary of the ceasefire that ended the Colonial/Cylon war. She was built to symbolise Colonial military might, endurance and tenacity against adversity. Planning originally called for three other sister ships, however the twenty-five year peace mark resulted in a change in the political zeitgeist.

After a quarter of a century without a sign of the Cylons, the political establishment via actions of politicos such as the likes of Adar, were no longer tolerant of the possible threat of Cylons as a justification for continued military build-up and spending. The result was a series of cutbacks in the Colonial military budget. The scrapping of planned ships such as the three Hades class sister ships was just the opening salvo in what ended up being an overall reduction in fleet operations and size.

As a consequence of this, ships like the Pegasus class were designed which incorporated a much higher degree of linked systems to reduce the required crew number down to 2500, a little less than half that would be required if it used the same systems of the Galactica. Hades was the last ship where expenditures had not been a concern and took on a full crew of almost six thousand. She operated twelve squadrons of Vipers with another three in reserve as well as fifty plus Raptors. Four more squadrons than Cain's own ship operated, not counted the numerous additional weapon emplacements on the Hades. It was as ship designed for one purpose. To give hell to any enemy.

"Admiral, the lead ship is hailing us," an officer who was filling in for Lieutenant Hoshi called out. Cain looked over.

'Well at least they're not fraking sleeping,' Cain thought to herself.

"Put them on speaker," Cain directed to the man. The officer nodded and flicked a switch and the voice came over the CV.

"…peat Pegasus. This is the Hades, are you receiving us?" the male voice said. Cain picked up the com.

"Hades, this is Pegasus Actual," Cain said coolly.

There was a momentary pause and then another male voice came over the wireless. "Pegasus Actual, this is Hades Executive officer, Colonel Fields," the voice identified.

"Colonel Fields. This is Rear Admiral Cain," she identified back.

"Sir!" came the respectful reply.

"…Does your ship require assistance?" the Colonel asked.

In any other circumstance Cain probably would have raised an eyebrow at a commander being so direct, but on a day like today she was glad to skip the small talk and get to the point.

"Affirmative. Prepare emergency medical and engineering teams. The Raptors will have to dock to the starboard supply bay, our pods are currently unable to receive them."

"…Understood Admiral, I've had emergency teams on standby since the attack on the Colonies began, they can be there shortly."

"Good," she said succinctly. "…Colonel Fields, where is Rear Admiral McAra?" she asked after a moment. "My understanding was is that he is acting commander of the Hades Group in the absence of Admiral Denton."

Any officer worth a damn should be on the bridge given the magnitude of what was happening in the Colonies. Vice Admiral Denton was the permanent commander of the Hades battle group, and a damn fine officer. How a waste of space like McAra could ever be in charge of a fleet was proof of all that was wrong with the modern Colonial Military as far as she was concerned.

"Sir, Admiral McAra is not currently on the bridge," Fields said with a hint of exasperation in his voice, obviously directed at McAra.

"I have paged the Admiral. Do you need to speak to him, Sir?"

Cain paused for a moment looking around her damaged CIC. Her crew was a mess at the moment. They were doing their jobs the best they could given the circumstances, but a mess nonetheless. They were suffering, and she wanted to know why McAra was not doing a damn thing to help.

"Affirmative Fields, I think a discussion with Admiral McAra is long overdue. Send a Raptor to access hatch S14."

"Sir?" Fields queried.

"Send a Raptor to pick me up from the starboard hatch fourteen. I'm coming to speak to the …Admiral in person," Cain remarked not really bothering to hide the disgust in her voice when she called that man an 'Admiral'.

"…A Raptor will be there in three minutes, Admiral."

"Good. We shall speak face to face soon Colonel. Pegasus Actual out."

Cain set down the com phone with a determined motion.

"Helena?" her XO asked quietly enquiring into her intentions.

"Colonel, have the CAG and a marine escort meet me at access hatch S14." When Belzen hesitated she gave him a hard look.

"Right…" he said and quietly, jumping on the ships com to relay the order.

"Fields?" Cain asked him.

"Sir?" the XO asked, distracted with the headset in his hands.

"Colonel Fields, the Hades XO. Do you know anything about him?" Cain continued.

"Err…yeah. A little bit. He was a couple years ahead of me at the academy. I only know him by reputation. A very good officer. Shoe-in for commanding a Battlestar."

"Competent then?" she asked.

"Well it probably isn't McAra who's keeping the battle group from falling apart."

"Hmmm," Cain said without commitment. "I want a sit-rep every twenty mins on the status of my ship and crew whilst I'm aboard the Hades."

"Understood," he said as Cain gave a last look around the CIC and walked out.

The short walk to the nearby hatch was not a pleasant one for Cain. The corridors were littered with debris and the dead. She had to tense her jaw as she walked past the long line of bodies lining the hall. She could not afford to look at their faces. Not yet.

Arriving at the hatch she found her CAG, Captain Cole 'Stinger' Taylor, a humourless and imposing officer along with four marines. The men were looking alert but grim. She sighted the smears of blood on one of the marine's hands and averted her gaze away. The marine had obviously been helping shift the wounded and dead before being called to her.

"Admiral," the captain greeted rather dourly.

"Captain," she returned.

"When we're aboard the Hades, I want you to go to the flight deck and oversee the dispatching of medical and engineering teams for me, before co-ordinating the clearing of the Pegasus' landing bays."

"Sir," He said simply as acknowledgement.

With a final nod, Cain and her escort entered through the hatch. The Raptor pilot gave a crisp salute from the front towards her but she didn't bother to respond, her thoughts elsewhere as her CAG greeted the pilot and set them on course towards the Hades flight pods.

The three-minute journey was spent in complete silence. Cain thought over the attacks that had occurred in the Colonies. How many countless millions, likely billions, must be dead already because of those Gods damned toasters. The Cylons had taken her little sister away from her. They had taken her family. They were in the process of taking her home away from her. Damned if she was going to let them take her without one hell of a fight.

Ca-lunk.

Cain jerked in her seat slightly as the raptor set down on the deck of the Hades flight pod.

"We're here, Sir," Captain Taylor said obviously. Cain nodded in sign she heard him. Standing up she cleared her throat.

"Let's go."

Moments later the Raptor hatchway opened up and a hastily assembled honour guard of marines and officers snapped to attention. Three of her marine escorts exited the raptor first, jumping down they faced the saluting group, assessing for any trouble. Taylor exited a moment later, the captain immediately searching for the highest ranked officer present and finding it in the Hades' own CAG, a Major in this case.

As Cain exited the transport looking slightly more ruffled for wear than would usually be expected out of a flag officer, the party stood a little straighter. Wasting no time, the Admiral jumped down off of the Raptor after a quick survey of the deck. She approached the officer that Taylor had singled out.

"Major."

"Admiral, Sir. I am Major Richter, Hades Air Group Commander, Sir!" the man said.

Cain had another look across the deck, taking in the lack of activity.

"Major Richter, I gave orders to Colonel Fields to prepare Raptors to transport emergency personal to the Pegasus. Why is it then, I am not looking at Raptors being loaded up?" Cain asked having observed the deck and despite observing raptors, seeing that the personal milling around were just waiting. The Hades' CAG officer looked unnerved at the question.

"Admiral I…" he began only to be cut off by an angry Cain stepping right up to his face.

"Why?" she said dangerously.

"Admiral, Sir. We did receive orders from Colonel Fields to prepare Raptors with emergency response teams, however those orders were overruled."

Cain's eyes narrowed. "Ordered by who?"

"Admiral…Admiral McAra, Sir."

Cain visibly grimaced and looked as if she would like nothing better than to grab the Major by the lapels and shake him.

"Now listen to me Major. Take a close look at the pins on my collar. Do you know what they mean?"

Richter swallowed visibly. "Rear Admiral Sir."

"Rear Admiral, what?" Cain asked again.

"Rear Admiral Upper Half, Sir" Richter continued.

"Do I outrank Rear Admiral Lower Half McAra then?"

"…Yes Sir."

"Good. Now what I want you to do is load the emergency personal into those Raptors…" Cain pointed to the small multi-purpose vessels with the engineers and medics milling around.

"And I want you to launch those Raptors towards the Pegasus at the earliest possible convenience. Do you think you can do that for me Major?"

Richter swallowed nervously. Ordinarily the man would be as tough as nails, but Cain was a whole lot tougher.

"Yes, Sir," he answered.

"I'm glad to hear it. Because if you do not, Captain Taylor here…" she indicated her CAG officer he stepped forward to her side. "Is going to un-holster his sidearm, put it to your head, and shoot you."

"Yes, Sir," Taylor said in agreement, making it apparent that's exactly what he would do if Cain ordered it.

"That won't be necessary, Sir. I can load the Raptors, Sir," Richter said.

"Good," Cain said and prepared to move away.

"However, Sir," Richter began, which caused the Admiral's eyes to narrow, and turn back to face him, making him fall silent.

"What?" Cain said fiercely.

"I can prepare the Raptors Sir, however they cannot be launched without the approval of the CIC."

Cain stepped up close right to his face. "Well I guess I had best head to the CIC." She looked past the Major and quickly picked out a sub-lieutenant.

"You! Do you know the way to the CIC?" Cain addressed the younger female officer.

"Sir, Yes I do Sir," the young officer responded after a startled instant.

"Take me there," Cain directed walking forward, three of her four Pegasus marines following her.

"Yes, Sir," the young woman asked leading the Admiral away and her escort away. Richter and the rest of the honour guard didn't let out the collective breath they had been holding until Cain was off the flight deck.

"Your CO's about the toughest officer I've ever seen," Richter said to Taylor after he dismissed the honour party.

"You have no idea," Taylor responded back coolly.

"Would you really follow her order to shoot me?" Richter asked as he waved over the chief grease monkey.

"…I suggest you load the Raptors, Sir," Taylor said to the Major after a frigid pause.

"…Right"

* * *

_Battlestar Galactica_

_Starboard Berthing Corridor C_

A soft patter of small feet resonated off the hard metal flooring. A young boy ran down the hall, blonde hair flashing under artificial lights. Darting nimbly around and under people, he kept running, head spinning left and right as he ran on bare heels.

Behind, following at a more sedate pace, two people walked, an armed marine escorting a teenage boy down the hall.

"You'll be staying in this room here," the marine said, stopping and opening up a hatch. The teenager stepped through past him into the room, looking around.

"You should be glad you've got a kid with you," the stocky marine continued gruffly. "Otherwise you'd be stuck in communal bunks like everyone else."

The quarters was quite small, possessing two berths sticking out from one side of the wall, a metal locker, a small table and chair, and nothing else. Green eyes quickly took the contents of the room, before looking back to the marine.

"Grateful? Oh I am. But I can't help but wonder as to who it was that had this room before me. I understand the Galactica lost a number of crew during the attack. Did you know the man who slept here?"

The teenager tilted his head, as he looked at the marine, raven hair falling between his eyes. The man standing in the doorway's face grew stormy, the one hand holding the strap of his automatic weapon tightened.

"That is not the sort of thing you should ask someone on this ship, Potter," the marine snarled.

"Hmm," the teen mused, glancing away down from the marine to see the young blonde boy come running in and clutch onto his leg, tiny face glaring at the man.

"Of course, my mistake," Harry Potter said with a coy smile.

"That was inhuman of me." The marine frowned, becoming wary as the teenager stepped up to him, holding out his hand to shake.

"I apologise."

Looking at the hand, the marine hesitated, before shaking it. There was no way the man was going to let himself be freaked out by a kid, or baring that, let it known he was weirded out by a civvie.

"Whatever, kid," the marine huffed. "Kids," he corrected, taking note of the small boy looking at them with wide, unblinking eyes. Freaky.

"Just, stay out of trouble and count yourself lucky you've got your own room."

Harry smiled and nodded, leaving the soldier to wander off. The green-eyed teenager stepped forward and closed the hatch, the room quietening sharply. He moved and sat down on the bottom bunk, taking note that the blonde boy kept an unblinking watch on the teenager's hands.

"See that move did you, Draco?" Harry asked, motioning the boy to come stand closer. The blonde boy drew near, looking at the hand that had been empty before shaking the marine's hand. Harry unclenched his fist to reveal a foil wrapped protein bar.

"Sometimes you just need to make your own luck."

* * *

_Battlestar Hades_

_Combat Information Centre_

Cain strode through the halls of Hades, ignoring the startled and hurried salutes of officers and enlisted as the flag officer strode past. Usually courtesy, if not protocol, would dictate she return the salutes. But she didn't have time for protocol. Not today. And she sure as frak didn't have time for courtesy.

"Sir," the lieutenant who was guided her through the ship said as they reached entrance to the CIC, a pair of marines guarding the entrance, smarting to the attention.

"We're at the CIC, Sir," the junior officer said.

"I know it's the CIC lieutenant, I can find my way around a fraking Battlestar just fine," Cain spat out.

"You're here for another reason."

"Sir?" the officer said in confusion.

"Just...wait here lieutenant."

Leaving the confused officer at the door Cain nodded at the marines guarding the doors.

"I'm sorry, Sir" a marine said nervously. "But your escort must wait here," one of the guards said indicating the three marines that were shadowing Cain.

"Fine," the Admiral said half-vicious, half indifferent. She entered into the brightly lit room, a bridge larger and grander than the mostly automated one Pegasus had, was set out before her. A command table featured in the centre of the room with the various tactical stations arrayed in a circle around the table.

"Admiral on deck!" a voice announced loudly and the working noise of two dozen officers at various stations fell silent as they looked up, coming to attention. Cain fixed them with a level gaze searching for McAra and the Colonel Fields she had spoken to. She quickly identified them as the two men standing at the centre tactical station.

McAra was a portly man in his early fifties, with greying hair. He had the look about him of someone who was used to feeling superior to others, and strived to feel superior as often as possible. Currently he wore a sour look of someone that had just taken his favourite toy...and stomped on it. Fields, a dark haired man in his late thirties stood nearby with a tactically closed expression.

"At ease," Cain said as she descended the short series of steps towards the tactical table. The officers in the room returned to their work, though watching this new aspect to their environment with avid, if veiled, curiosity.

"Admiral McAra," Cain greeted curtly.

"Cain," the officer greeted stiffly. The female admiral's jaw tightened visibly.

"Admiral, one Major Richter informed me that you overruled my order to dispatch emergency personal to the Pegasus."

"I command the men on this ship and this fleet Cain, not you. Do not presume to think you can just issue any order you want."

"My men are dying Admiral, and you cancel my order because of some pissing match!" Cain snarled. McAra scowled in return.

"I have no idea of the condition on the Pegasus. I felt it was prudent to assess the situation more carefully."

"Prudent..." Cain breathed out in almost a laugh.

"And was it also prudent for you to keep an entire fleet out of the fight whilst the Colonies burn. Or were you assessing the situation then as well?"

"Are you calling me a coward, Cain?" McAra said viciously, his face growing red with fury.

"Oh I didn't say anything about cowardice, Admiral. Do you think you're a coward?"

McAra's face if possible, grew redder.

"How dare you!" he said voice raised, attracting the focussed attention of the officers around the CIC, the room falling silent to watch.

"How dare I!" Cain said interrupted the man.

"How dare I what? Order aid from a more junior officer? How dare 'you' overrule my order without even speaking to me. You will rescind your previous order and clear the response Raptors on the flight deck immediately."

"Like hell!" McAra said angered. "I'm an Admiral I don't have to listen to a word you say. Marines!" the access hatch to the combat information centre opened and four of the ships marines entered, along with the three Cain had brought with her.

"Marines escort Cain to the hanger and off my ship," McAra directed. Cain faced the oncoming men.

"Stand fast," she ordered, causing the marines to halt.

"I gave you an order, now do as I say!" McAra shouted to the marines.

"Sir, she has seniority," Colonel Fields said trying to reason with the Admiral.

"Bullshit," McAra argued. "There are 15,000 personal in this fleet, Cain. If you think I'm turning over so much as a deck hand to your authority you're dead wrong." Cain's jaw clenched and she approached the man standing directly in front of him.

"There were 2500 men and woman on my ship this morning McAra. There are now fewer than 1600 remaining, half of which are in need of medical attention. …Now Rear Admiral 'Lower' Half McAra, as your superior officer by seniority and by rank, I ask you again…execute my standing orders."

"Helena… Go frak yourself."

Cain's faced hardened. She looked at McAra as if he was some disgusting thing she had trodden on. She looked over at the marines behind her apparently thinking, before tearing her gaze from McAra and the marines and approaching the second in command, Colonel Fields. She came and stood in front of the man.

"Colonel, give me your side-arm," she said levelly. The man quickly did as he was told. Taking the weapon she turned in a deliberate motion pointing the gun at McAra's head and PHANG.

A spray of mist and cranial tissues exploded outwards as a body fell to the ground, a surprised look on what was left of his face.

"Frak," Fields said in disbelief.

For several seconds there was silence. Then in a motion the four marines' that McAra had called into the room, unfroze and pointed their weapons towards Cain. Whether they intended to shoot her, or arrest her, or just put her in their sights wasn't determined as they were quickly covered by the three marines that had accompanied Cain aboard the Hades, a standoff took hold. Cain ignored this however.

"You!" should said gun still in hand as she pointed with her free hand towards a communications officer.

"Ye..Yes, Sir," the man stuttered. Cain rested the weapon barrel down on the man's console.

"Open a channel to all ships in the group," she directed and the officer hurried to comply. Flicking switches he soon indicated for her to speak into the stations handset.

"This is Admiral Helena Cain," she began. "I have relieved Admiral McAra of the burden of command. From this moment, I am assuming control of the Hades task force. I expect your full cooperation. Hades Actual out."

Cain looked up and gazed around the bridge seeing the shocked faces and uncertain expressions on the marines in a standoff with her own.

"Is there anyone here who has a problem with what I've just done," she asked stiffly looking around.

No one said anything. No one some much as coughed, or tried to catch her gaze. Stepping forward, Cain Locked eyes with the ship's marines and they hesitantly lowered their weapons, Cain's own men followed suit.

"Then return to your stations," she directed.

"Marines," she said attracting their attention.

"There is a lieutenant in the hall, send her in on your way out," Cain said coolly dismissing them.

They silently filed out, glancing at the body as they left. Cain turned to face the ship's executive officer, Colonel Fields who was still looking at McAra with a shocked expression still.

"Colonel," she said. "Colonel!" A more forceful call got him to tear his attention from the corpse.

"Yes?" he said in confusion.

"I trust you will have no problem executing my orders," she said.

"...No," he said after a silent pause.

"Good," Cain replied shoving the spent firearm back into his hands. "See about launching the emergency response Raptors then would you."

"...Right," he said putting his sidearm away hesitantly. "This is Fields. Launch response Raptors," he said speaking into a receiver.

"And once you're done with that, organise a recon flight to be sent out to look for other Colonial military vessels to rendezvous with us here. Also organise a time as soon as possible for me to meet with the rest of the fleet's captains face to face," Cain said quickly dishing out orders.

The man nodded in reply.

"And Colonel," Cain said interrupting him before he could continue speaking into the handset. "I hope I can trust that you will give me your full cooperation?"

The man eyed the fallen figure on the floor of the room.

"Yes, Sir. Yes you can," he replied.

"Good," Cain said strongly.

"Excuse me, Sir," a female voice asked. Cain turned around sighting the lieutenant she had commanded to wait outside of the CIC. The junior officer looked openly terrified looking at the form of the former fleet commander dead on the floor beside the Admiral.

"Ah yes, Lieutenant. I asked you to wait didn't I?" Cain said.

"Yes, Sir," the younger woman said nervously.

"Good. Do me a favour and throw this trash out an airlock would you," Cain said indicating the fallen McAra.

"I won't abide traitors aboard this ship."

* * *

_Ragnar Anchorage_

_Access Hatch_

"Hey! You cannot just leave me here!"

Green eyes watched as the heavy blast doors slid shut seemingly under their own energy, despite the destruction of the electric motors that powered them.

"NO!" Dural yelled running towards the doors, only to have them close in front of his nose.

The smirking face of the scar free, emerald-eyed nineteen year old standing in front of the now closed gap, looked around at the others crowding the access point, seeking out his marked counterpart.

"Too much?" the athletic young man asked his older, leaner looking double. Thirteen snorted in reply.

"Like I care what happens to him," he said rolling his eyes.

"Let's get out of here," Thirteen commanded, turning away to walk off to the Heavy Raider that would carry them back to his ship, the Three, Eight and Six moving to follow after him. However, the tall blonde woman was prevented from walking after the others by a tight grip upon her wrist. Turning, she faced the athletic copy of Thirteen.

"What are you doing?" The female Cylon hissed to the youth as the others passed out of earshot. Green eyes narrowed dangerously in reply.

"I could ask you that the same, Six," the raven-haired youth replied coolly.

"You've been disappearing lately. Always disappearing off to do something behind Thirteen's back. If I've noticed, you can guarantee that he has."

The male's voice became quietly dangerous.

"What have you been doing?"

Six sneered, snatching her arm out of his grasp.

"That has nothing to do with you! Just know that I'm working in 'his' best interests."

The raven-haired males eyes darkened slightly, his hand came up. Six was repelled off her feet by an invisible force that slammed and held her against the cold durasteel wall.

"Have you forgotten that I was created with all of his memories, Six?" he asked, eyes fiery.

"My master does not like it when people he trusts go behind his back with the intention of helping him. For the best intentions, for the greater good!"

Six was lifted away from the wall and thrust backwards again into the steel, before falling to the ground in a pile, the invisible hold over her vanishing.

"For your sake I suggest you never say those words to him," he said in a warning tone.

The youth walked off to catch up with the group, leaving the woman climbing to her knees behind.

* * *

_Battlestar Galactica_

_Commander's Quarters_

Bill Adama walked into his quarters, weary, but still standing. It had been a long day. He had blood on his hands, both figuratively and literally. But that was the least of his sins.

He had lied. Lied about Earth. Lied to his crew. Lied to the entire fleet. Lied, to give them hope. Roslin called him on it, of course, though she had waited until they were alone to do so, thankfully. He would have preferred she had believed his lie too. But then, Adama never could get one past school teachers.

The man froze as he spied a piece of paper folded in the centre of his desk, obviously intended for him to notice it. Someone had been inside his quarters.

With a sense of trepidation he moved towards it.

'There are only 13 Cylon models.'

The commander felt his blood chill.

* * *

_Cylon Baseship_

_Ragnar High Orbit_

Thirteen walked onto the bridge of his command ship with a numb feeling of satisfaction. At long last he was free to do what he had wanted. The Cylon council had voted to allow him to go after the remnants.

"Ready the fleet to jump," he commanded.

It had been a long time coming, but he was going to get his revenge on humanity. No, not revenge. That was the wrong word. This was justice. One human, to destroy an entire race.

"Where to," Three asked, the brunette turning around to face him. As she spoke thirteen Basestars and the hundreds of Raiders and support vessels clouding around them began powering up their jump drives.

"Caprica," he said.

"There is something there I need to retrieve."

**END CHAPTER**

* * *

AN: As always please review. Nice reviews make me smile. And all reviews are nice. :)

Constructive criticism and feedback is also welcome.

Thanks to everyone who has reviewed this story, added it to favourites, subscribed, alerted and harassed me through PMs to update. So thanks go to Ninja Master in particular, and to everyone who has been on the ball making sure I haven't forgotten about this. ...too much.

Peace.

EDIT: 01 April 2012 Fixed up even more overdue typos.


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